


Appearances

by bjfic_archivist



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Canon, Mystery, Suspense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-09-04
Updated: 2007-07-19
Packaged: 2018-12-26 20:08:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 42,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12066087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bjfic_archivist/pseuds/bjfic_archivist
Summary: A mystery/thriller that dares to ask...What lies behind the masks of quiet men? Brian and Justin may not like the answer to that question but failing to discover what that answer is could prove fatal to them both.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Note from IrishCaelan, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Brian_Justin_Fanfiction_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in September 2017. I posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/bjfic/profile).

  
Author's notes:

I have challenged myself to write a story within the story. This is my attempt to create a world behind the world that you see when you watch the series and that will fit within that frame work as much as it can be done. 

* * *

 

_Brian's POV_

Music pounded through me. It was one of the things I liked about this place. It was the only place I had ever been where you did not just listen to the music; but let it become a part of you. You could feel it in the floor under your feet. It was in the air as you breathed the thick, smoke laden stuff deep into your lungs. The pulse of the music was there in the taste of a thousand cigarettes and the never absent sweet undertones of marijuana. Reason was not welcome here and the music filled your mind, coloring it with a hundred images each more erotic than the last. I leaned back against the bar, propped by one elbow on its dark surface as I lounged and looked out over the crowds. I took a deep draw off the half smoked cigarette in my hand as I waited for something about one of the gyrating bodies out on the dance floor to catch my attention. I could always count on Babylon to keep my cock hard and one thing I did not suffer lightly or long was an unsatisfied itch to have my dick sucked.

My eyes passed over my best friend, Mikey. He and I had gone to school together, had suffered through the discovery of being gay together…well his suffering and discovery…I really didn't remember a time when I hadn't known that I had no interest in chasing pussy. When the other boys had been trying to sneak peeks in the girl's locker room I had been content to hang out with the boys getting my eyeful of all the prime cock a little queer could ever ask for. My lip lifted into a smirk as I remembered those now long gone days. Today Mikey knew he was gay, even if he was still afraid to come out and face the world. His new boyfriend, now there is a word to give a queer hives, was on the floor with him. A non-descript chiropractor much older than we were, but one thing Mikey could always be counted on to do was to go out and find himself a father figure.

Mikey's friends Emmett and Ted were also on the floor. Ted, the accountant with his self effacing two step…or whatever you would call that non-dance he was doing and Emmett the queen everyone had to love…While I was unsure how I had come to adopt and to be adopted by Mikey's friends that is what has happened and when Emmett met my eyes and waved in my direction he leaned and whispered in Ted's ear. The accountant turned, what could have actually been a pair of sultry dark eyes if they had not been so puppy dog wounded, in my direction. I flipped him off and watched his expression change to "fuck you Brian" before turning my back on the dance floor and calling for another drink. It looked like I was going to need it. Yeah, it was a typical night at Babylon. Typical except for one thing; I turned my head and with no effort looked dead at the thing that made this night anything but typical and the reason for my horrific mood. Justin. The only male in the room my radar would pick up tonight. No matter where I turned my attention I could have thrown a dart without looking and hit him at any time. I knew where he was, who he was talking to, who he was dancing with and who had fucking touched him and it was driving me to the brink of suicide. The blonde haired little faggot had somehow dug under my skin and no matter how often I fucked and sucked him or let him suck me I couldn't get him out. A glimpse of that tight round ass, the flash of his eyes, hell the goddamn sound of his laugh made me hard instantly. The reason I was still hard now was that I had already pulled him to the backroom once and I would be damned if all of Liberty Avenue was going to know that Brian Fucking Kinney kept a raging hard on for this stereotypical blond twink. I groaned and threw back my drink in one toss. For god's sake he could have had the decency to have dark hair or to have left me the fuck alone.

I called for another drink and tried to ignore the fact that Justin had decided to plague me with his presence once again. He leaned against the bar next to me, his body language a careful copy of my own. Forearms against the edge of the bar, expression clearly stating "I don't give a fuck and it was doubtful that anyone could make me" a major difference between us. I really didn't give a fuck and he was only pretending. A half naked hunk took up the position on Justin's other side.

"Come here often?" the lame-ass said in what I supposed he imagined was a sultry voice. The hair on the back of my neck rose. Didn't that asshole know a minor when he saw one? I moved between the two fluidly. The trick growled at me and left. Justin didn't even look at me just turned to face the dance floor but that irritating knowing smile played on those those oh so kissable lips made me want to smack him.

"Jealous?" he sniggered staring at the mass of male flesh contorting under the flashing lights of the dance floor.

"You're too young for him." Blunt, to the point, what the fuck did I care anyhow. If the kid wanted to troll Babylon I should just let him. He snorted.

"He's probably six years younger than you are." The officious little prick had the nerve to comment. God he gets on my nerves.

"So you want him? Go get him. Who's stopping you?" I also turned to look at the dance floor and as expected Justin didn't move; there was only one fag he was interested in and we both knew it. I just hoped that my inability to stop fucking him didn't give him the wrong idea. I don't do relationships. I realized that Justin was staring at something with a very strange look on his face. I tried to follow his line-of-sight but could see nothing out of sorts. I can't say I didn't see anything strange but it was all the normal strange stuff nothing new nothing to cause that look.

"What?" I asked casually, not that I cared or anything but what if some creep had been being…shit creepy or something.   
  
"Who's that?" he muttered never taking his eyes off the dance floor. He sipped his drink distractedly, so distractedly he didn't notice I had switched it to a coke, When it was clear that I didn't know what he was talking about he frowned at me. What? Like I'm supposed to read his fucking mind or something? "That guy with Michael." He said as if it should have been the most obvious thing in the world. Why the hell was he so interested in that bland…he could not possibly want to…so what if he does? I asked myself in disgust. He's not yours. You don't do…oh shut up… I told myself and knocked back another drink.   
  
"Him? He's just Michael's latest 'I wish I had a daddy' collectible." I told the boy at my side dismissively but Justin's expression didn't change if anything he actually looked concerned.   
  
"He's creepy." He told me turning to meet my eyes for the first time since he had returned to my side. Almost as if it was safe to look at me if we were not discussing sex. I caught myself touching his face and jerked my hand down. How the fuck had that happened? I set my empty glass on the bar. It was the liquor. I frowned into Justin's trusting face, the liquor it had to be.   
  
"What the fuck are you talking about?" I asked distractedly, good god how in the hell could it be possible for me to smell him in here? There was no way that was the scent of his soap combined with the musk of the sex we had indulged in earlier making me dizzy. How could I smell anything but booze and cigarette smoke in this place? Mmmm…maybe because my face was in his hair. God it was soft, stupid schoolboy haircut made getting my fingers tangled in it nearly impossible. When he graduated I would make sure that he…that he nothing what the fuck was wrong with me?? I wouldn't even remember his name by graduation. I nuzzled his cheek and focused on the feel of his hands on my bare arms. Hot and cold, the one seemed to burn me where he touched and the other was icy from holding the drink contrast like the two of us, opposites. What was it they say about opposites…that they fuck a lot…I nibbled the corner of his mouth…yeah I'm pretty sure that's it.   
  
"He gives me the creeps." I lifted my head to look at the couple on the floor again. Justin sounded really weirded out. Maybe I had missed something. No there was Mikey all bright and shiny for his Dr….what was that boring prick's name? Danny? Daisy…David that was it the charming and totally unfuckable Dr. Dave. God how could Mikey get a boner over that bland piece of…Justin's tongue traced the line of my jaw and my breath hissed between my teeth despite my best effort to appear unaffected. He had pressed his hot little body against mine and there is no doubt that he felt the full extent of what he does to me with so little effort digging into his belly. He pulled back to grin at me but I was in no mood at all for games. I kissed him, a hot wet open mouthed kiss and he wrapped himself around me. Babylon disappeared, the noise, the smoke, the lights all of it gone, there was nothing but…him. I tried to devour him. His tongue tangled eagerly with mine before I pulled back to suck and bite at his lips. His groan was like liquid fire straight to my cock. His hands cupped my butt and he ground himself against me. I grabbed his hand and pulled him toward the backroom, fuck Liberty Avenue. I was going to get my cock sucked.   
  
TBC


	2. Chapter 2

  
Author's notes: Graphic sex, some B/J love, my favorite :).  


* * *

_Brian's POV_

The backroom, it lurked behind the public area of Babylon delivering what the pulsing beat of the dance floor only promised. The temperature seemed to drop ten degrees or more when you walked through the door into the dimly lit warren of rooms.  The smell of marijuana and the sound of sex set the ambiance for the rooms. Singles stood in the halls and in corners hoping to connect with other wandering souls. Pairs and multiples filled every nook and cranny with a writhing orgy of sexual encounters. 

This was one of the other things I loved about Babylon and I savored it as I led Justin  though the smoky red lit haze. The sounds from the dance floor could be heard dimly and vibrations from the beat of the music could be clearly felt through the floor. I backed into a vacant corner pulling the young blond with me. His grin practically lit the room and if I hadn’t been so incredibly horny I would have left him standing there. I wasn’t sure what he thought he had won but that he believed he had was written all over his ridiculously beautiful face. He was so close that my eyes almost crossed trying to look at him. I slid one hand around the back of his neck bringing his mouth once more into contact with my own.

“This doesn’t mean anything.” I said against his tender lips in spite of the fact that already his nimble fingers nearly had my leather pants open. He didn’t even hesitate.

“Of course not.”, he parroted back to me what he knew I wanted to hear, he was very good at that. Saying the right words while behind his blue eyes lurked another meaning entirely. “It’s not anything; just fucking” his words coincided with the heavy weight of my cock filling his hand and with a smirk he dropped to his knees in front of me. “And sucking.” I barely heard his last comment before his hot mouth engulfed me and my world shrank. Whether or not this was something that happened to everyone when they had sex I had no way to know but my entire existence narrowed until there was nothing but the experience. Tonight that experience was the feel of Justin’s mouth on my cock. My hands slid into his silky, too short hair to cup his head and urge him forward. I watched as he swallowed the length eagerly as if he had been doing this his entire life, instead of having done it for the first time just weeks ago.  The expression oh his face was total rapture and the sight of it drove a spike of fire through my loins. I choked back a cry. I had been coming to this place nearly my entire life. I did not howl my pleasure like some green twink. 

His hot wet mouth moved steadily along the length of my dick swallowing me repeatedly. The boy had been born without a gag reflex and had buried his nose in my pubes the first time he had blown me.  He had been an unbelievably quick study using his tongue in ways that before this had lived only in my imagination. I gasped and thrust forward and he tugged my pants lower when the zipper dug into his chin. But he never paused in his intense sucking.  His hand cupped my balls and a shudder ran through my entire frame. Long  artist’s fingers, still smooth with his youth, caressed the slowly tightening sacs with gentle teasing. My breath was a gasp in my chest as his tongue flicked over the weeping slit in the head of my cock before laving the length of my rock hard dick like it was the sweetest stick of candy he had ever had the good fortune to taste. His enthusiasm and pure enjoyment in the act added to the pleasure of the moment. His reactions to me made my head swim though I could never remember caring how someone felt during sex. What was there not to enjoy? But somehow this act, one that had been preformed on me hundreds, more like thousands, of times before was different when the mouth that held me was his.

“Justin.” His name escaped my lips unbidden and I trembled as he drew his mouth along the underside of my prick before swallowing me again.  “oh…god…yesss…” I groaned.   His mouth was hot, slick and wet and it slid up and down the length of my throbbing cock steadily. He squeezed my balls gently. “Christ” I muttered and shifted my legs a little further apart. The movement of his head increased and my breathing quickened in direct response. He fingered the puckered hole of my ass teasingly and every muscle in my abdomen clenched in reaction.  My hips bucked forward and another guttural moan escaped my control. He wouldn’t breech me, he was well aware that entrance was by invitation only but he was a marvel with those sensitive fingers.  He continued to suck hard and fast and I could feel my orgasm begin to build and half laughed with stunned amazement. This kid could get me off faster than anyone else I had ever let suck my cock. He sensed as he always did that I was close to coming  and his speed  and suction increased accordingly. My fingers tightened on his head, digging into his scalp and my head fell back against the concrete wall.  Every nerve in my body grew taut and I gasped for breath with the effort of trying to hold off the inevitable, but despite my best effort my hips pumped forward of their own accord and Justin took me into his throat easily.  My head banged the wall behind us and my lips parted in a silent howl that corded my neck.  “FUCK!” the expletive exploded from between my lips at the same moment my cum filled Justin’s mouth. I nearly convulsed with the power of it and for a brief moment the sensations seemed unending but  all too soon he had licked me clean and was tucking me back into my pants with none to steady hands. I told him to stand up and took over before he got to the zipper. He got slowly to his feet but stood looking a bit dazed. I chuckled at his expression and grabbing the front of his shirt I turned us so that his back was now to the wall. 

“Got a problem of your own?” I asked sagely and secretly delighted in his blush, with that fair skin I doubted he would ever out grow coloring up like that.  My mouth took his before he could answer. And my hand traced the hard line of his cock through his jeans. The other hand rested on his T-shirt clad shoulder. Jeans and T-shirts, little boy hair cuts what in God’s name was I thinking? I had no idea but I did not move away. He had just given me an incredible blow job and while I did not intend to go on my knees in front him here, he deserved to get off. Besides he was seventeen, how long could it take? It’s not like it was some huge sacrifice on my part to slip the button of his jeans free, slide the zipper slowly over the bulge of his crotch and free his straining cock into my hand.  My thumb swirled over the head collecting the moisture gathered there and used it to slick my grip. He made a low choked sound in his throat and thrust his hips towards me.  His mouth opened under mine eagerly and his fingers slid into my hair. God such eager submission was nearly enough to give me another boner. Instead I focused on what I was doing to him.  While his blow jobs were out of the world his hand work needed… well work. Something I found somewhat amusing since he had been fisting himself for a lot longer than he had been having opportunities to wrap those luscious lips around cock.  Obviously he had been getting the job done and little else. There was a finesse to a good jacking off just like everything else in life and I proceeded to give him an example of exactly that.

It would be better with lube but  he was young and hot enough to counter that with his own sperm production, he always leaked copious amount of the stuff even before he actually came. I had noted, much to his embarrassment, that it was a good thing he wasn’t into pussy, the way he leaked he would have gotten someone pregnant for sure. I wasn’t sure if the comment had totally grossed him out or pleased him in some bizarre seventeen year old ego kind of way.  One thing it did do was making jacking him off a real pleasure.  His precum soon coated his dick and it nearly glistened even in the dusky light of the backroom. He had a beautiful cock, perfectly formed eight inches springing from a thatch of very blond pubic hair that was as soft as down. Another sign of his age I supposed but I liked getting my fingers in it as much as I did the hair on his head.  His pubic hair was not thick and was very sparse on his balls, a thing that made sucking them sheer bliss; once again my cock considered rising to the occasion. There was little about this kid that didn’t turn me on.  My hand moved up and down the length of his dick slowly drawing soft moans from his throat. Unlike myself Justin had no problem expressing himself vocally no matter where we were. It was totally hot. 

I thrust my tongue down his throat and my hand moved more quickly on his cock, in sync with his thrusting hips. His hands fisted in my hair and it was obvious that his entire focus was right where it belonged on the cock I  was fisting with much more talent than he had ever shown. He was lost to the moment groaning and thrusting but I did not doubt that he would soon replicate every touch on my own willing test member. When I felt the revealing tensing of his body I pulled out of the kiss to watch his face.  I pulled faster and harder on his dick and his face contorted in beautiful passion. He threw back his head and I stepped to the side letting him shoot his load against the near by wall in stead of all over my leather pants.  His hands dropped  to his side as he sagged limply against the wall. His eyes were glazed but fixed on mine.  I tucked him back into his jeans and as he fastened them I licked my hand clean. I had discovered that simple act turned him on beyond belief and sure enough his tongue snaked out to lick his lips briefly as he stared at the sight of my own caressing my fingers.  I could see he was at a loss for something to say. I found that amusing  simply because he is always so quick to have just the right  witticism ready for me. I didn’t say anything just pulled him off the wall and draped my arm around his shoulders as I led him from the backroom back into the kaleidoscope that was Babylon. 

“Are we going to dance?” he asked sounding hopeful. I knew he was attempting to keep my attention for a little longer but I was done for the night.

“No.” I said coldly and ignored how his smile dimmed as his face fell. Sunshine, Mikey’s mom had nicknamed him because of that smile and there was no doubt it fit. I had found myself biting back the instinct to call him that myself upon occasion. I think it could safely be said that I don’t do nicknames.  The young man at my side tried very hard not to let his disappointment show on  his face but his inexperience with hiding his emotions made it impossible for him to do so. Fuck it, torturing him was not nearly as much fun as it should have been.

“We’re going home. I want to fuck you.” I leaned to whisper in the perfect shell of his ear and watched the sun come back out from behind the clouds. The thought made me blink. Was I losing my fucking mind? He was a young cock with a tight ass and that was all. 

“It doesn’t mean anything.” I told him as we headed for the door. I didn’t see my friends waving my attention was  solely on making sure that Justin understood that he was just another fuck. But I saw how his eyes lit when I said home and though he turned a guileless face up to meet my eyes I knew what was lurking in that  idealistic brain of his, “I don’t…”

“Do relationships. Yeah I know. It’s just fucking that’s all.” But he wrapped his arm around my waist and leaned his body into mine as we walked. I didn’t resist. What the hell not all foreplay is done naked and that’s all it is fucking foreplay.  God the smell of his hair is going to drive me fucking nuts.

 TBC  



	3. Chapter 3

  
Author's notes: I thought we would take a look at things from Justin's side.  


* * *

_Justin's POV_

I looked over to where Brian lay sleeping and for a moment I was tempted to wake him.  A hand sliding under the duvet or a whispered invitation to shower would be all that was needed to get him up for the morning.  A grin quirked my mouth, getting Brian up did not seem to be much of a problem for me. Getting to school on time since I had taken to spending so many nights away from home, was quickly becoming one. I had looked through the schedules and worked out the buses I needed to take to get from Brian's loft to my school. The way was complicated and I had to leave an hour and a half earlier than I did if Brian drove me. My resolve wavered; an hour and a half would be long enough to…and I started to reach for him.  Unbidden and unwelcome my mother's voice echoed in my mind.

"The school called me again today, you were late again. That's four times last week and two this week. They gently explained that if I could not get you there on time that they would be forced to seek your father's intervention." She had looked at me with that wounded expression that she wore so often now; as if my being gay was a burden she was barely strong enough to carry. I sometimes almost felt sorry for her but it was not really her burden. She had gone on to explain that if the school called him she would not be able to continue to cover for me.  God my father was a true homophobe if ever there was one. I could just imagine the result if he found out that his precious son  was sneaking out at night to suck some thirty year old cock. That thought made me nearly laugh out loud. Brian would cuff me if he knew I had thought of him even for an instant as a thirty year old. They wouldn't get it; there was no way they could ever understand how much I loved him. There had been a connection between Brian and me the first time our eyes met. I could never say that to him or he would throw me out on my ear but it was there and it was real. 

I was supposed to be following my dad's foot steps through the exclusive private school they sent me to and after that on to business school; carbon copy proof of my father's success as a man and father.  There was no room in his dream  for a son who was not only an artist but happened to be gay as well. My father's temper was not pretty and I honestly wanted to avoid causing it to flare more than just about anything. There was only one thing that could induce me to risk the explosion. My eyes traveled over Brian's face and bare chest. He was simply the most beautiful person I had ever seen. Even sleeping with his mouth half open and drool escaping from it. I wanted so much to wrap myself in his arms and never come out.  I wanted to tell him that I loved him and even if he couldn't say it back, know that he wouldn't turn me away. I hardly dared to dream that one day he might say the same to me. That was a secret that could only be brought out in the darkest night when I was alone in my bed at home and there was no danger that he would read my mind as he seemed to do so easily. 

I shook my head and pulled myself together. It was not worth the risk of losing him to indulge myself either in silly fantasies or in a round of sex that could wait until tonight. I pulled my hand back without touching him and headed for the shower. Visions of the night before ghosted through my mind as I soaped under the hot water. Soaked and soapy I closed my eyes and turned my face up into the spray and indulged in the memory of Brian's cock inside me. When he had said he wanted to fuck me he had not been exaggerating,  and he had been inexhaustible.  My ass was still sore and I took extra care cleaning up. By tonight the ache would be only a memory, and I would be ready for another round. Thinking about Brian was completely counter productive to my intentions of a quick cleansing.  My cock was soon as hard as it had been last night when he had sucked me off . Soaping the aching length of my dick I leaned back against a glass wall and prepared to take care of my problem. I let my imagination take over and my hand became Brian's.  I gave myself over to the sensations of the slick rhythmic stroking as I attempted to recreate some of the things he had done to me the night before. I remembered that he had done something different to me. I paused in my stroking trying to recall exactly what I had felt at the time. He had been sucking me which was hot enough on its own but suddenly  I had seen stars and my breath had been sucked totally from my lungs. What had he done? Frowning I tried to force the memory, a hand crept down to cup and caress my balls and my legs spread as I reached behind the sensitive sacs…I remembered. I pressed my fingers firmly against my perineum  and nothing. I grunted and unwilling to give up explored my own body with a diligence I never had before. I had already discovered that I could often learn how to touch Brian by paying attention to what felt the best to me and I was going to learn this…it had been fucking incredible. I had shouted and shot my load down his throat so quickly that it had been embarrassing even for me. Thank goodness he never got annoyed about that anymore because I had proven too many times that I could always get it up again.  And then I found it and my own touch made me gasp and my knees nearly buckle. I kept my fingers at work as my hand moved again on my shaft. I forgot that I was in  a hurry; there was nothing but the sensation of the shower against my skin, my hand on my cock and my fingers learning to caress my prostate in a way that I was sure would drive Brian out of his fucking mind and with that thought I came. Laughing at myself  I cleaned my cum off the glass and finished my shower. 

Once out I discovered that I had not done much better taking a shower alone than I did when he followed in behind me. Well in a way I supposed  he had still followed me, there was no escape in my mind from his presence that was something I had already learned.  If he wasn't  actually touching me then he was in my head touching me. I was beginning to think the main thing that Brian Kinney had introduced into my life was a permanent raging hard on. Clothes on, back pack on my back I risked going back into the room to tell him good bye. He was laying on the bed smoking a cigarette watching me through open doorway. I couldn't believe I hadn't felt his eyes on me. I wondered how long he had been watching.

"Leaving?" he asked casually was it only my silly wistful heart that read in his eyes that he wished I would  stay? He took a long draw off his cigarette and his eyes never wavered from mine. Absolutely my silliness. 

"School." I said shortly in explanation and leaned to kiss him good bye. He let the smoke he had been holding in his lungs escape into my mouth the warmth was as intimate as a touch. His free hand snaked round the back of my neck and pulled me into a more substantial kiss. Our tongues battled and his mouth slanted over mine. I could feel my need for him increase with the pounding of my heart. I pulled back panting. "They are going to call my father if I'm late again." I said by way of explanation. His eyes narrowed and I thought he would say something smart assed about my situation but instead he ground his cigarette out in the ashtray on the nightstand and swung his long legs over the side of the bed. 

"Fuck, why didn't you say so?" He asked in annoyance. "Where were you going? You can't walk all the way there." He ran a hand through hair that was already wild from the night before and now nearly all of it was standing on end. I stared at his unshaven jaw for a second distracted by thoughts of licking it. "Justin!" I blinked what had he asked?    
"um, oh the bus. I'm going to catch the bus." Brian stared at me like I had lost my mind. He threw the bedding aside and got up.

"You can't take the fucking bus from here." He told me as he grabbed a pair of jeans and pulled them on.  "Do you really have no idea the kind of people that use the bus service around here? You and that Gucci backpack wouldn't get three blocks. What the fuck were you thinking?."  I ignored  the insults and watched him get ready to take care of me. He would have to drive all the way back here to get ready for work. He would probably be late.  He looked up from buttoning his shirt, "What the fuck are you grinning about?" he asked stepping into his loafers and grabbing his keys from the beside the ashtrays. My grin brightened. 

"Nothing." Was all I said but inside I was so happy I thought I might simply explode. He gave me the Brian Kinney what the fuck is your problem look. He headed for the door and I followed him without further comment.  
"This doesn't mean anything." He told me as he slid the loft door closed and turned on the security system, "I'm only driving you there because I don't want to  fucking hear that you got your fucking self fucking gang raped on the way to fucking school." I blinked that was a lot of fucking even for Brian. Suppressing a laugh I climbed into the passenger side of the jeep and carefully kept my face turned away from his so that he would not see the joy dancing in my eyes. 

"I know that." I shrugged and dropped my backpack between my feet and fastened the seatbelt.  When we stopped at the street light and I finally had enough control to face him he was scowling so blackly that I could not resist leaning to kiss the corner of his mouth. He cut his eyes to look at me and I grinned. "Its just fucking. I've got it." I turned to watch the buildings slide by in the side window before I actually burst out laughing.  His phone rang and  he tried to dig it out of his pocket. I eyed the denim and remembered that he wore nothing underneath. "Can I help?" I licked my lips and stared at him suggestively just as he pulled the phone out of his pocket. He gave me a look like he would never let someone jack him off while he was driving. Yeah right he could tell that to some other blind soul. But he flipped his phone open and  it was immediately clear that it was Michael…probably by the way he said "Mikey, what do you want." I sank back in my seat no way I was jerking him off while he talked to "Mikey" 

"I'm driving Justin to school what did you need?"  A pause, "He's not my fucking boyfriend I don't do relationships." I stared out the window again and parroted him silently. I wonder why it hurt so much more when he said that stuff to someone else. It didn't make a dent when he said it to me. "He needed a ride. Fuck Michael he was going to be late and I'm giving him a ride it's not fucking anything. What was I supposed to do let him get on the fucking bus?" I shook my head as the conversation continued. By the time Brian got off the phone he was highly pissed and I knew who was going to pay. Well I wouldn't give him the chance. He pulled up in front of my school, with much less flamboyance than he had exhibited in the past. When he turned to kiss me I was already sliding out of the jeep. I slung my backpack over my shoulder and slammed the door. It was almost worth missing the kiss to see the look on his face. I bit back the thing I wanted to ask the most, when would I see him again, and lifted my hand in a casual wave.

"See ya." I called and turned away. I heard him throw the jeep into gear and roar off. I breathed deep trying to get past the image of his stunned face.  There had not been hurt in his eyes or disappointment on his face I tried to convince myself.  After all it was just fucking right? Then why did I feel like such a shit? With a sigh I tried to find a smile for Daphne when she fell into step beside me; at least I was on time and the inevitable confrontation with my father had been put off another day. 

School was finally out for the day; another day of harassment ended. The other kids moved on to various practices or club meetings. Daphne and I sat under one of the big trees in the lawn of the school. That was something public schools didn't have, lawns and huge old trees. I wondered if they also lacked the morass of intolerance that I suffered everyday in this place. I sat in the neatly trimmed grass with my knees pulled to my chest, my arms folded across the tops and my chin on my arms. I stared out over the grounds and watched the ebb and flow of the heterosexuals as Brian would call them. It was  odd to continually feel alone in such crowds.  I watched as the boys and girls came together and separated.  They touched, flirted and moved on, or held hands and kissed. A bitter smile curled the corner of my mouth as I considered what would happen if I had the nerve to kiss my lover on the front lawn of the great establishment.  Well that was nothing to worry about, that was not ever going to happen. Since I had come out…or been thrown out depending on your point of view…there had been no tolerance of me at all. There had been little enough before, my artistic bent had already ensured that such names as 'faggot', 'queer' and 'gay' had followed me throughout high school. Now, my senior year I  had finally found enough nerve to admit to myself that I really was all of those things and to act on it. That was how I had ended up walking down Liberty Ave not so long ago.  The next day I had come the rest of the way out when I had been unceremoniously dumped on the front lawn by a faggot's jeep, there had been no mistaking it since the fact had been emblazoned on the side in letters a foot tall. I had not really wanted to be escorted to school in that jeep that day but how could I back down with Brian's eyes looking at me like that. He made me want to make him proud and I so had ridden in the jeep. Brian's approval had been a precious thing to me from the start.  
"Why don't you just find someone else?" Daphne asked. She knew I was thinking about Brian. I was always thinking about Brian these days; fucking Brian, sucking Brian…loving Brian. I shrugged I knew she meant well . My mom thought I should find someone my own age. Daphne thought Brian was "to die for" but she thought I would be happier with someone else too. I shrugged.

"It's not that easy, Daphne." I said watching the cheerleaders pile into convertibles with football players. I snorted, not a tit went unsqueezed and they say that gays are out of control. The cars roared away and I turned my full attention back to her, "I love him and he loves me." There, I had said it aloud for the first time since coming to believe that it was true. She frowned at me. Her very special 'you are living in a dream world and I'm fixing to wake you up' smile. I had learned over the years this was a smile patented by black women. 

"So you say. You told me that before but you did finally confess that it was probably wishful thinking on your part. Why isn't this the same?" She was never harsh with me but she never whitewashed things either.  I felt my face flush remembering how I had spouted off to her after my first time with Brian,  thinking about it made me feel years older than I had been in that day rather than only weeks.

"Because he is still fucking me…and he takes care of me." Said out loud those reasons seemed weak but I believed in them with all my heart. Daphne laughed and pushed my shoulder with her hand.

"What does that mean Justin? Are you trying to say that he never fucks anyone more than once?" she sounded as incredulous as I had felt upon my discovery of this fact. "That's impossible he would run out of new…new faces." We both laughed at her sudden attack of shyness.

"I didn't believe it either, Daph, not at first but they all say it. Emmett, Ted even Michael. Brian never does anyone twice and when they are talking to me you can see them looking at me trying to figure out why me, especially Michael. God he hates me."  That made her laugh too, sweet Daphne. 

"No one hates you Justin, well except the homophobes. You are too nice to hate. Did you do something to him?" she knew better. I really was pretty easy to get along with as long as you weren't scrawling faggot on my locker with pink paint. Did all these people get their ideas from the same websites?

"He loves Brian and he's never going to have him."  I told her, "Michael is the one person that Brian really does love and he's not going to risk that for sex. So "Mikey" is screwed…err or not." I spelled out for her what everyone around the pair could see clearly but that remained undefined by the pair themselves. Emmett had told me that I was the embodiment of Michael's biggest fear. That Brian would learn to love someone he was already fucking.  I remembered how I had lit up demanding to know if Emmett believed that Brian loved me.  He was so kind and totally unwilling to hurt me finally he had simply told me that there was something there. None of them were denying it but that I shouldn't expect too much from him. Lindsay's words echoed back to me.  "how much?" I had wondered and the answer had been the same, "nothing." My heart rebelled against that answer it could not be the truth. No one had ever expected that he would fuck me more than once and I fully intended to have them all standing, mouths gaping when one day Brian Kinney openly loved me. I could tell she was as unconvinced about Brian's affection as my mother was but Daphne thought he was hot so she at least understood my unwillingness to try and move on. 

"What did you do last night?" she asked in a sudden change of subject. Daphne loved my stories of Babylon and no matter what she thought of Brian as my boyfriend she never tired of listening to me talk about him and so for my own enjoyment as much as hers I relived the previous night.  Her eyes were huge as I talked about sucking him off in the backroom and got even bigger when I told how he had taken me "home." Emmett and Ted might not believe that Brian cared about me but by the time I was sleeping in his arms in her imagination, Daphne had been converted.  "Oh God he is so HOT." She breathed fanning her face with her hand. I laughed at her. 

"Drive me to Liberty Avenue?" I asked her  as we got to our feet and shouldered our backpacks we were nearly the only ones left in the yard. She frowned at me.

"Shouldn't you go home? Your mom is going to be worried." She told me I glanced at my feet. I didn't like to think about my mom being worried but then I remembered about my bedroom with its narrow half empty bed. I never knew when I went to Babylon if I would get Brian or not, but winning sometimes made it worth the gamble all the time. 

"She'll know where I am, come on I'll buy you a burger at the diner." I promised and unable to resist the lure of an adventure, Daphne took me where I most wanted to be, Brian Kinney's playground.

TBC  



	4. Chapter 4

Brian's POV

I sat staring at the underwear I held in my left hand. I had dropped my pen under my desk and digging it out had revealed that a pair of Justin's briefs had decided to take up residence under there as well. They must have fallen out of a bag when Jennifer had stopped by yesterday to unceremoniously dump a few bags of Justin's clothes on my desk. Mostly underwear, I supposed she thought I would not keep him in clean panties. Fuck her. I had taken the boy out of a potentially abusive situation but did I get any fucking thanks? No. I got bags of his fucking underwear tossed on my desk. I should have told her that the only time I wanted to touch Justin's underwear was when I was stripping it off him. Christ what a fucking mess. I wanted to claim that I didn't know what had possessed me to take him, but the fact was that seeing that boy stand up to his son-of-a-bitch father had made it impossible to leave him there. He had fucking guts I'd give him that. I couldn't name five adults who would have left everything they knew to  walk into the unknown.  Not the unknown, I told myself, not for him because for some fucking reason he believed I was going to take care of him.

I scrubbed my hands through my hair and tried to get the picture of his angry, hurt mother out of my mind. It was not my damn fault that her son was fucking gay or that her husband didn't have the sense of a fucking fruit fly. Nothing about this situation was my fault. So I had fucked him? So what? If I hadn't someone else would have. If the truth was to be told he was damn lucky it had been me, there are a lot of crazy fuckers out there.

Lost in thought I stared into space. Justin's future was so unsure at the moment. Estranged from his parents and persecuted nearly beyond endurance at that fucking center for homophobes that his oh so loving father called a school. It didn't take a genius to know that he had to be on the edge. A place to live, a way to support himself…Goddamn how could a 17 year old be expected to cope with all that crap. Because he was gay and  because the fucking world couldn't accept that, he had to grow up now. It wasn't fair and it made me goddamn furious. He should be allowed to stay a kid; to be gay and 17 but the reality of our lives made that impossible. There is no such thing as a gay child. 

I rubbed one hand over my face and leaned back in my chair, my feet on my desk ankles crossed. Justin's underwear still hanging from the fingers of my other hand.  I rubbed the cotton between thumb and forefinger as I contemplated what an incredible example this was of why I only fuck someone once. Complications. Who fucking needs them? Finally I shrugged and stuffed Justin's briefs in my pocket and prepared to return to what I had been doing. Somebody would be willing to take in "sunshine" and then I could get back to my fucking life. Literally. The thought made me grin and my mood lightened. 

Working on my current account was about to bore me out of my mind. There had to be something better out there than trying to sell white briefs for a company who wanted to "avoid any gay overtones…undertones" What the fuck ever. What idiots; who did they think probably bought ninety percent of their damned underwear? I thought of Justin modeling a pair or two for my presentation and it made me laugh.  They would probably love him. Sunshine selling underwear…I pondered that for a bit and found myself considering that if Justin had made dinner afterwards maybe he and I could…What in the goddamn hell! He and I could nothing. I didn't know what was wrong with me but I knew damn good and well what would fix it. A trip to Babylon and a new trick or two or three would clear things right up. Justin did not have the only tight ass in the whole fucking city and I would try more than one tonight. I ignored the problem of what to do with Mary Sunshine while I went out fucking. He wasn't my problem. 

My cell phone rang but lost in thoughts of all the ass I could stand, I ignored it. It finally quit and then the office phone began to ring. For some reason it caught my attention and when Cynthia burst into the room, I was sitting in my chair staring at the door trying to identify why the sound of the phone had suddenly made me ill.  She stopped dead at the look on my face.

"Well, what the fuck is it?" I snapped. She didn't hesitate, she was well used to my moods but I noticed that  she was gripping the phone hard and that she seemed upset. Her words confirmed it. "There was a boy on the phone. He was crying. He wouldn't talk to me, he just kept insisting that he had to talk to you. I was bringing you the phone but he hung up." The sound of my cell ringing again stopped her babbling.  I nearly leaped over my desk to reach the phone before it stopped ringing again. I dug it out of my coat pocket and flipped it open. Justin. Something had happened and I was probably going to have to kill his fucking father.

"Justin," I said into the receiver. I didn't have to ask. I knew that it was him and that whatever was happening was bad. I was pulling my sport coat on and juggling the phone, there was no answer on the other end, "JUSTIN! Would you fucking answer me!" There was silence and then in a tone that froze me to the spot he said my name. God what had fucking happened? I was searching for my keys but couldn't find them. Cynthia stared at me like she had never fucking seen me before. "Where are my goddamn keys?" I yelled, and tried to calm enough to focus on what he was saying…or not saying. Jesus Justin talk. "What happened Justin? What's wrong? Where are you?" Cynthia handed me my keys off my desk and I started for the door. My hand was on the door knob when what he said next stopped me in my tracks.

"Brian, he's dead." His words didn't seem to make any sense for a minute and then I was yelling into the phone again, who was dead and where was he at. The irrational fear that he had killed his father burned in my gut.  

"Home, I'm at home." The fear suddenly solidified. Why had he gone home? What was he fucking thinking? What had happened? Had his father finally gone over the edge and attacked him? I had first hand knowledge of the lengths his father's fucking rage would take him. Having nearly been killed by the bastard when he had purposely bashed my Jeep to hell with his car it was easy to believe that a violent attack against Justin might be next. My mind was whirling with more questions than I could ask and I left Cynthia standing next to my desk, jaw dropped as  I left my office at a dead run. 

"Tell me what happened." I demanded trying to sound calm and not like I was running a marathon through a building with highly waxed floors in my slick soled shoes. 

"I came in from school." He sounded a little calmer talking to seemed to be helping, "I stopped at the diner and got some lemon bars to eat while I did my homework, Daph dropped me off there. She had  to meet her mom. She didn't come with me today. After that I went home but when I opened the door to the foyer there he was…he's just sitting there. I thought he was hurt…he's dead Brian I don't know what to do." My mad dash slowed as my brain absorbed his words. He had stopped at the Diner. He wasn't at home he was…he was at the loft. Jesus Fucking Christ. What in the hell was going on? 

"There's a dead guy in my foyer." I had stopped running. Relief overwhelmed every other emotion, "Is that what you said?" 

"Brian aren't you listening. I found him. He's like…he's sitting there waiting for someone to come in only…he's not waiting, he's dead. He's naked and he's dead. And I don't know what to do. I can't help him. I wanted to help him but his neck…he's…Brian…" The panic was creeping back into Justin's normally well modulated voice. I could feel him reaching for me through the phone. Looking for an answer needing my help; fuck. I wanted to tell him to call his mama and let her help him but it was my building, my foyer…with a dead boy that someone had killed and Justin…FUCK! "Are you still there?" the edge on his voice made me wince and it was clear that his control was nearly broken.

I was on the run again. My relief had been short lived. Now I was not sure what I was more concerned about; the fact that Justin was standing in a place that a killer had occupied only a short time before, or that the police would get there before I did. Fuck they'd make mincemeat out of him, my innocent seventeen year old twink. God, what I had on my hands before had not been a mess, this was a fucking mess. He had to get the fuck out of there. 

"Yes, I'm still here. I'm on my way. Did you touch anything, the kid, anything?" I barked and my fear came out as rage like it always did, "Did you step in any blood?" 

"There is no blood." He sounded lost bewildered but as he continued shame colored his voice, "I wanted to touch him…I wanted to, I was going to help him but his neck. His head…it's not really on Brian." I heard him gag. 

"DO NOT THROW UP!" I screamed at him. "Do you fucking hear me Justin? Don't you dare throw up." He choked and coughed but when he came back on the phone he said he had not thrown up. "Did you call the police?" I asked.

"Not yet. I was scared. I called you first. I didn't know what to do, I still …I should have called them. I'm sorry. I can…now…" he was going to hang up. I yelled at him until I heard his voice again thin and wavering on the other end.

"NO, do not call the police. Get out of there." I paused and he didn't answer the only sound was that of his ragged breathing, he was clearly in shock. "Don't call the police. Just leave. Go to the Diner, to Deb. Let someone else call the fucking cops." There was silence again finally he spoke.

"Deb?" he said blankly. Fuck. 

"Yes, Deb at the Diner. Justin stop looking at that dead kid. Right now. I want you to go to the door and get out of there, do not look back. Go now." 

"He's blond." Was all he said but I heard the sound of movement and the distinct sound of a door opening. And then the blessed sounds of the street. The door clicked audibly closed on the nightmare behind him. 

"I'm going to the Diner, are you sure?" I assured him he was doing the right thing. I told him I wanted to  call Deb and tell her he was coming. He didn't want me to hang up but he finally let me get off the line.  I called Deb and told her that Justin had suffered a shock and I wanted her to take care of him until I could get there. 

"Until you can get here?" she echoed sounding unbelievably smug. 

"Just do it Deb, he needs you." I snapped and hung up on her. I breathed deeply trying to find a center of balance. I had reached my car and had finished my conversation with Justin while standing outside of it. I climbed in and started the engine. There was only one place for me to go. I called Cynthia and told her I would be out for the rest of the afternoon with a headache, that was not a lie.  She did not sound like she believed me and I could hear the unasked question hanging between us, just who was "Justin."

"Fucking Sunshine." I muttered pulling out of the garage and into the street. I dug my sunglasses out of the glove compartment as I drove one handed with half my attention on the street. I put them on and sat up and began the familiar drive home. If no one had found the kid by the time I got there, I would call the police. They didn't need to know anything about Justin. 

"He's blond" I heard Justin's voice so pale and unlike himself echo in my mind…"He's blond." I pounded the steering wheel with the heel of my hand. Fuck. Fuck, Fuck FUCK.

TBC


	5. Chapter 5

Brian's POV

I forced an artificial calm over myself as I was driving. I could not afford to get pulled over by some over eager cop, and so I maintained a reasonable relationship with the speed limit and I only ran two stop lights on my way. I planned to drive by the apartment and if the cops were there continue on to the diner; if they were not I would park and go in as I normally did, find the body and call the police. There would be nothing odd about the situation. Nothing odd If I fucking ignored the fact that it was only 4:30 and I never saw my front door until at least six and usually much later. I recited my excuse for being there so early, using my headache as the reason. I did not want Justin pulled into this, he had enough on his plate already. I could almost see the glee in some homophobic pricks eyes if they got wind of him. What would a fucking murder matter to them compared to the joy of catching a gay pedophile? Shit, away I would fucking go. My headache was getting worse just thinking about it. That was my true concern of course. Justin was not my problem and he was cocky enough to handle anything that came his way, but neither of us could undo the fact that more than once I had been ten inches deep in his under-aged ass. I had to look out for myself, I could be sure that no one else fucking was.

It seemed to take forever and yet far too soon I was driving past my still and silent apartment building. My reaction was mixed. I needed to go in there and make sure that Justin hadn't left any evidence that he had been there first. I did not relish the idea of going to visit the fucking dead guy. The blond one…goddamn why did that haunt me so badly? Nothing had happened to Justin. A little trauma over finding a body was not something a person would never fucking recover from. I understood that so what I didn't understand was why my palms were sweating as I approached the door that I had entered hundreds of times before. The foyer was locked and I punched in the code on the pad next to the door. I could see the shadow of legs sticking out from beside the stairs, near where the elevator was located and my gut clenched; but I was determined that anyone looking on would not see anything odd so I made no attempt to see more before I pulled the door open and went in.

The smell hit me first and I choked. Justin hadn't mentioned the smell, it was not overpowering yet but that it carried the story of death was unmistakable. I forced my feet to move, one foot and then the other. I didn't know what fucking idiot had managed to get himself killed and dumped in my building but I was fucking pissed off about the whole thing. I stepped past the stairs to where I could see down the short hall to the elevator. The air sucked out of my lungs and I gasped nearly dropping to my knees. I felt as if someone had sucker punched me in the gut. My mind screamed at me that it wasn't Justin. I had just fucking talked to him on the phone and this was not him; but I couldn't breathe. Goddamn it, it's not Justin I screamed at myself. And then proceeded to heave up my fucking guts. I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand in disgust; even the twink had managed not to disgrace himself so fucking badly. I forced myself to move closer. Pale bare legs, long fingered artistic hands, a shock of blond hair…not Justin's…not. I reached out and touched his shoulder, maybe if I could see his fucking face it would help. He was cold under my touch and the feel of his skin made mine crawl. Justin had been right there was no blood, not so odd considering the crime had been committed someplace else. I was easing back in to my rational mind and starting to put this fucking issue into it's proper prospective. I had seen no sign that Justin had been here and I would call the goddamned cops and he would be gone, a foot note in my fucked up life. Just a dead guy in the foyer, it happened all over the city and there was nothing to fucking freak out over and then my hand shifted his body and his head fell off.

"Jesus fucking Christ!" I yelled and backed away so fast that I nearly tripped and fell into my own vomit. "Fuck. Fuck. Fuck." The air was filled with the cloying sickly sweet scent of death and two filmy blue eyes started at me from where the head had fallen face up on to the carpeting with a soft thump. It wasn't Justin. The face was too old. The hair dyed blond. Dark stubble darkened the jaw line. Fuck me I knew it wasn't Justin. I had known all along. But what if I hadn't fucking known? What if I had walked into this not knowing he was safely at the diner with Deb. I shook my head trying to clear my fucking thoughts. Goddamn what fucking difference did it make? I stared at the face on the floor and my stomach lurched again. I knew him. I had fucked him a few weeks ago, in the backroom.

"What was your name?" I whispered into the dead air. I didn't know. I never bothered to remember a trick's name. Only when they turned stalker did such things matter or when they were laying fucking headless at my feet. Not Justin. Not this time…the thought nearly made me collapse and before I could stop myself I had dialed the diner. Deb answered. "Is he there?" I demanded unable to make myself hang up before I heard her answer.

"Who is this?" she asked her voice filled with suspicion.

'You know who this is, is he fucking there?" I yelled unable to imagine what was going to happen if her answer was no. Visions of boys being snatched off the streets in windowless white vans dredged up from childhood nightmares chilled my bones.

"Sunshine? Of course he's here. You sent him here didn't you?" She had plenty more to say but I hung up on her I didn't have time for Deb's inane prattling. I steeled myself and dialed for emergency assistance.

"911, how may I direct your call." The calm professional voice answered halfway through the first ring.

"I need the police." Those words were acid on my tongue, who ever needed those homophobic pricks? I stared down at the face on the floor and shook my head. All things considered right at this fucking minute I supposed I did. "There's a dead guy in my foyer."

~*~

By the time the police got done with me I was so fucking pissed off I could have choked one of them given the least opportunity. They had asked the most imbecilic questions I had ever had the indignity to suffer through. What the fuck difference do the details of my life make to them? Did they think I had fucking killed the guy in my loft, bled him dry in the fucking shower and hauled him down there to prop up like some bizarre trophy? Or maybe their fucking theory was that I had done the evil deed some place else then hauled the body, sans head, back here to throw them off track and then I had hung around breathing the lovely perfume of my barf mixed with his slowly decaying body because I wanted to wallow in my success? The police were stupid assholes and in my fucking opinion we would never know who had been behind that atrocious tableau. Goddamn fucking idiots.

I left the apartment behind me and drove toward the lights, noise, booze and drugs of Liberty Avenue. I needed a drink, drugs and fucking and in that order. Between Justin's fucking hysterics on the phone, hanging out with the fucking corpse half the afternoon waiting for the goddamn cops to decide to pay a visit to the dead queer, I was emotionally drained dry. I had tried moving to where I couldn't see him but that gave me the fucking creeps like he was going to get up and put his head under his arm and come looking for attention. I raked my hand through my hair. Christ. When the cops had shown up there had been little concern for the dead and less respect. It had been a fucking torturous couple hours. When they had finished with pictures and collecting evidence and were preparing to fucking bag him up, one of the cops had come to get me. Asked to explain what they had found. I could only laugh. How the fuck should I know why some faggot had his cock painted red. And finding out whether he had done it to himself or if it had been done after he was dead was their fucking job. Goddamn fucking idiots.

An hour later I had downed my drinks, found my drugs and was buried in the hot tight ass of the first trick to catch my eye as I wandered through the backroom. My mind was a blur, no worries…no fucking dead bodies to haunt me. I gripped the sweat slick hips of the dark haired trick bent over in front of me and pounded repeatedly into his ass. His very hot, very tight ass. The booze made my mind thick and slow. The drugs made my blood hum. I quickened the pace feeling my orgasm beginning to build in earnest. And my phone rang. Goddamn shit. I fumbled for it. I never stopped fucking as I flipped it open.

"Hello?" I did nothing to disguise the annoyance in my voice. "What the fuck do you want Deb, I'm busy." I slowed my motion even though the body under me protested. I smacked his ass, I was running this show. "What the fuck do you mean what am I doing? I'm not his goddamn nanny. Something came up…" ah Jesus I had put my fucking orgasm off as long as I could. She could fucking well enjoy it with me. Phone in one hand and the other on the finely rounded ass in front of me I resumed pounding my cock into him until with a final thrust and a low growl I came. I shuddered for a moment still buried deep in his ass. Then I moved away, carefully uncoupling us. The trick tried to kiss me but I waved him off. I was done and cradling the phone between my cheek and shoulder I dismissed him and focused on discarding the condom and fixing my pants.  
"Now what?" I asked.

"You son of a bitch." Was all I got and then I was somewhat firmly disconnected. The bitch hung up on me. I shrugged wasn't the first time. Not likely to be the last. My head buzzed and I had work the next day. Thinking of going back to the loft brought its own vision of a blond head laying in the floor, a red cock nestled lifelessly in painted pubes. I slammed my fist into a nearby wall. "Fuck this." I turned to exit the backroom, I was going home. Making my way through Babylon to the exit took me past Mikey and company.

"Where's the Missus?" Ted sneered. I started to turn towards him and realized what an incredibly bad idea that would be tonight. I ignored him and kept walking. I don't do relationships and I fucking wasn't in one now. They could keep their goddamn smart assed opinions to themselves. I knew I was in no shape to drive home but crawled behind the wheel of the jeep anyhow. I was going home and no goddamn dead asshole was going to keep me from it.

Somehow I got back to the loft without killing myself or any fucking body else. I had to use the stairs since the fucking elevator was still taped off. I let myself in and after sliding the door shut and engaging the security system started for my bed shedding clothes. It was not until I was ready to crawl under the blanket that I realized Justin was there before me. He was curled on his side pretending to sleep. Fucking kid. I climbed in beside him without speaking even though the remembered sound of his panic now echoed in my mind and my words, "Until I can get there." Fuck. I wasn't his damn boyfriend. I damn sure wasn't his fucking father. He had to learn to take care of himself. He turned towards me and I was pulling him into my arms. My face and my hands in his hair the smell of him surrounding me. I smelled of smoke, booze and fucking. He smelled like goddamn sunshine. His body was hard against mine, and I could feel his heart beating against my chest. His arms wrapped around me and the secret of how I had trembled within his embrace was safe between us two . And then I was kissing him, his face between my hands, his skin supple, warm and alive under my fingers. His mouth opened under mine and his tongue thrust eagerly into my mouth. I rolled pinning him to the bed as I ravished his mouth with mine and his body with my hands. I paused, breathing heavily I cupped Justin's face again and rested my forehead against his. He didn't question me. He knew where I had been and what I had seen; what we had seen. Suddenly cold I rolled to my side pulling him with me. I wrapped myself around him and buried my face in his fucking hair. He didn't protest, he never did no matter what I fucking did, the little asshole. My hand cupped the back of his head and I kissed his forehead. I could feel sleep waiting to steal me away. Not Justin; was the last thought I can remember having before I succumbed.

Fucking Sunshine

TBC


	6. Chapter 6

  
Author's notes: I just want to thank all of you who have reviewed so far. It's really great to know what you are thinking about the story   


* * *

Part 6

Justin's POV

"Wake up, you're late." My dreams fled at the sound of Brian's voice and his hand shaking me roughly. I pulled myself groggily towards consciousness. Fuck how could he be up before me? I had been home hours before he had finally got in and then he had awakened twice during the night and fucked my brains out both times. I smiled and stretched luxuriously at the memory. It had not been easy to convince Deb to bring me here instead of taking me to her house. She had been incredibly pissed off at Brian last night. They all had been, everyone except Michael and even he had not defended his friend but had chosen silence over accusation. One thing had become clear to me as I listened to their ranting about Brian "deserting" me, their word not mine, and that was that for all their warnings about expecting too much from him, I seemed to be the only one who saw clearly who Brian is. 

Had they really expected him to come running to me, especially after the news story that had brought out the details about what had happened? I found the body (they knew that now, the news didn't), he  protected me. I almost laughed at them. Had they thought that Brian was going to turn into the model boyfriend because I had a panic attack? It embarrassed me even now to remember the extent of my fear when I found the body. I called him and he helped me, again, even though I was not his boyfriend; in fact as he had so eloquently put it not long ago, I was nothing to him. He didn't fucking need me and he damn sure didn't want me to need him. I did need him though. I needed him so much that there were times I thought I would die from it. 

I can read people and that really saves my ass with Brian. I can look at him and just know what is behind his words, no matter how hurtful or angry they are. I don't know why. It's something I've always been able to do. I know how far to push and when to back off. My mom says I have a knack with people. Seems weird to me since I thought artists were supposed to be moody loners; but because of it Brian can look at me and say "get the fuck away from me" and my ears hear him quite clearly but my heart understands that he means "get the fuck away from me, but not too far away." More than once he has intervened when he thought I as making poor decisions. Honestly, sometimes the only thing I can see wrong with the tricks he objects to is that they aren't him. Funny that he might see the same thing, not that he would ever admit it in a gazillion years.

"It's just fucking." he would tell me and kiss me breathless. I was starting to welcome those words. They meant he recognized that he was paying too much attention to me but that he didn't intend to stop. They meant that to him there was something about me that was worth fucking…more than once. I wasn't sure what that was but I was willing to take what I could get. I saw Brian Kinney with a sharp clarity that I was sure he would flee if he was aware of it. The truth was simply that Brian was a prick and an asshole, but I loved him anyhow. 

One thing I could not understand is how in the hell had they expected that Brian would ever expose himself so completely as to come running to the diner to see if I was ok. It had been telling enough when he had called to make sure I had made it there safely. I understood. That dead guy had been built enough like me that it had given me the fucking creeps to stand there and look at him. I hadn't known how to warn Brian, "He's blond." god that had been so weak. I was not the only blond guy on Liberty Avenue, but I was the only one that Brian cared about and I had known that when he first saw that body it was not going to be pleasant. He hadn't spoken about it last night and I really didn't think he ever would. If I needed to talk about it I would call Daphne. 

He had done exactly what I had expected him to do. He had fled to the mind numbing noise and alcohol sanctuary that was Babylon. He had gotten tweaked and found somebody to fuck. His fear and pain always came out as rage and his vulnerability was masked by random acts of sex. It was as if his subconscious said "Damn, was that a twinge of heart…quick find someone to fuck." There had not been a chance in hell that any of us were going to see Brian after that afternoon. Even if I really didn't matter to him, which I don't believe, a dead guy in the foyer was not something that he would go have a burger after, especially a dead guy whose head fell off when he touched the body. That had been in the news report and I groaned at the thought. That might have happened to me, I had almost touched him. All that had kept me from it was my familiarity with human anatomy. After drawing the human form for so many years it had been clear to me that his head was not…attached the way a head should be. It had been resting on his shoulders at an awkward chin down angle that no one alive, or dead for that matter, could have duplicated if their vertebrae were still attached. I had been spared that moment. I had been spared a lot of things because once again Brian had stepped in and took control.

I don't know why they couldn't see it. "Same old Brian" they had muttered trying to figure out what to do with me. Well no shit, they were the ones parroting one after the other that I can't expect anything from him, so why the hell were they all always so fucking surprised when nothing was what he gave me? The answer was easy, it was because what I felt existed between Brian and I was real. It was real enough that they could see it even if they weren't sure what it was and it made them think he was going to be different. They would watch him touch me and care about me and start to think that he was going to change and the result was they expected too much. It had taken  a nearly  hysterical fit on my part to convince them that I wanted to go home. I didn't want to sleep in Michael's old room at Deb's house. I didn't want to sleep on the lesbian's couch. I wanted to take a shower and get in the bed I shared with Brian. I wanted to be there when he got home. No matter what they thought, no matter how shitty he acted. He needed me and I would be there. 

I had been right; he had come in totally fucked up and had fallen into bed with me. When I turned to him he had not pushed me away, just the opposite. If I ever told anyone that Brian had come to me in the night and had needed to be held I would be branded fifty kinds of a liar and an even worse fool, but so it had been. I was not sure what he meant by the things he had mumbled as he had passed out. "Not Justin. Never. Never Justin." His face had been in my hair muffling his words so I doubted my ears, but even if that is what he'd said I had no idea what it meant. That he would never love me? That I could never have him no matter how many nights I waited alone in his bed for him to come home? Then his arms had tightened around me and he muttered, "fucking Sunshine." My heart eased. The affection was still there. This day had not destroyed that, even if my peace of mind had been severely compromised. It was not a comforting thing to come home and find your near double dead on your door step; though when they had shown his picture on the news he hadn't really looked anything like me at all. It was uncanny how much he had seemed to resemble me in the shadows of the foyer, enough to totally freak me out.  Could that be a coincidence and if it wasn't one then what the fuck did that mean? My blood ran cold at the thought.

Suddenly the duvet was gone and I was landing on my ass on the floor. Brian had both snatched the covers and shoved me out of bed.

"Get up Justin, you're late. I don't think they are going to let me supply your get in to school free pass." He was lounging on the bed in just his jeans, smoking. I knew that he would pull on a shirt and step into his shoes on the way out the door. God he was sexy laying there like that, so unconcerned. His hair tousled from sleep and his flawless skin…oh fuck. I stared for a moment at the love bite that marred his skin just under his collarbone. Perhaps it was time to get ready for school. I grabbed up my clothes and fled to the bathroom. 

"I suppose I could write one for you." His voice pitched so that he could be heard over the water running while I brushed my teeth and shaved.  "Dear Headmaster, please excuse Justin. He is currently suffering from a horrid bout of dickuphisassitis. He had two severe attacks just last night and today he is hardly able to walk. I fear that this matter is very serious and will undoubtedly lead to a outbreak of gettinghiscocksucked syndrome, in which case he will be forced to miss several days of school entirely. Justin does wish to continue his education despite these horrible physical disabilities. I am quite sure that we can count on your sympathetic support as he struggles to overcome them. Sincerely Dr. Kinney."

I nearly choked on my fucking toothbrush. He was in fine form today. Oh my god dickuphisassitis, just wait until I told Daphne that one! The phone rang and Brian picked it up. "Hello Mikey." Fuck so much for his good mood. There was nothing like getting ragged on about me by Michael to screw up his day. I knew I shouldn't listen but I couldn't help it. I skipped my shower and started pulling on my uniform; so what if I smelled like sex. What were they going to do about it kick me out?

"What the fuck are you talking about? I didn't ignore you last night, I didn't even fucking see you."  Pause. "When I was leaving Babylon? When I was leaving Babylon I was going home not cruising fucking tricks. If you wanted me you should have fucking came and got me. Goddamn it I was not ignoring you…look Mikey I don't have time for this fucking shit we are late already." And to me "Justin are you fucking dressed yet?" "Mikey. I didn't hear you, I didn't see you. Get the fuck over it. We've got to fucking go… 'JUSTIN' …if he's late many more times he'll get kicked out of that fucking fancy pants school and I'll be stuck with him for-fucking-ever. Goddamn it I was NOT coming home to him…I didn't even…don't you have someone you can go fuck or something and leave me the shit alone. Shut up Mikey." He hung up and I walked out of the bathroom nicely groomed. Brian snorted when he saw me and sauntered over. He ran his hands under the lapel of my school blazer and leaned to whisper in my ear "Has anyone fucked you in this yet?" My cock came instantly to attention. 

"Not yet." I manage to choke out. He pulled back and met my eyes. His tongue poked at the inside of his cheek as he stared at me and then he turned without further comment and grabbed his keys, shirt and wallet from the foot of the bed. "Time for school." He told me sarcastically. Fucker. He knows what he does to me and he did that deliberately. Well that's ok, I'd pay him back…soon. 

The trip to school was pleasant enough. Michael hadn't managed to totally destroy Brian's mood and he teased me about fucking that guy's head off yesterday. "Think you could take it easier on the next one you bring home?" he asked, his gallows humor making me laugh in spite of myself, "I can't keep cleaning up all your fucking messes." We pulled up in front of the school and I waved at Daphne were she was waiting near the steps. She grinned and waved back at me heading for the Jeep. I lingered for a minute since I knew she really loved talking to Brian and it was a small thing to do for her.  "Ah your mommy is here to get you." He said with that cutting sarcasm that is all Brian. 

"Hello dear." He said to Daphne and leaned over me to kiss her but instead of brushing her cheek as he usually did he kissed her dead on the mouth. I burst out laughing at her expression and how her cheeks colored. She would be fanning herself all day. He turned to me, "Now you." His hand slid behind my neck and he pulled me to him. His mouth slanted over mine as his kiss threatened to devour me; as suddenly as he had kissed me he let me go and sat back his eyes dancing with deviltry. "Take good care of our son today." He told Daphne, who giggled and promised to look after me.  His fingers slid under my lapel and his eyes were hooded when he turned back to me. "Have a nice day, Sunshine. Don't fuck anyone I wouldn't."  I was dizzy from the kiss and his playful attention and I got slowly out of the Jeep trying to clear my mind enough to make a retort.

"Well that leaves a pretty open field," I finally said, knowing it was weak, "since you fuck anyone." 

"He wouldn't fuck me." Daphne said confidently and then colored up again. She said fuck in front of Brian. God knows she wouldn't recover today. Brian looked at her and leaned over to run his fingers under her lapel. Wide-eyed she jumped back with a gasp, and I slapped his hand away. Brian quirked his brow at me and drove away without comment, tongue firmly in cheek. 

"Oh my god." She breathed, "He is so fucking hot." 

"Tell me something I don't know." I muttered at her as I shouldered my backpack. I had a boner that was promising to be a permanent part of my day thanks to him. That look on his face when he touched my blazer had given me a severe case of Ineedhimtosuckmycocknow that made it hard to walk. I laughed at the thought and we turned to go into school.

"What?" she demanded but I was staring at half the football team staring at me and didn't answer her. Fuck. Well, having that many homophobes staring at me cured my hard on quick enough. I just led Daphne straight through them and tried to ignore the worst of their taunts though their insults to Brian made me burn. Daphne held my arm tightly. She could feel the building of my temper through the tension in my muscles. 

"No Justin." She told me her voice pitched too low for them to hear, "you cannot fight them all. They'll kill you." What she didn't realize was that it was a little like death to walk away; to leave the taunts and the insults unanswered and to admit that I could not stop them; to wonder if this is how it was going to be for the rest of my life…haunted by so many tormentors that I did not dare stand up for myself. Fear of becoming the next victim of straight on gay crime making me into someone I was ashamed to face in the mirror. Fuck that. I turned to face them and as usual Chris Hobbs was at the head of the pack. They fell suddenly silent as I approached. They were stunned that I dared confront them. Goddamn, little did they know what small shit they were compared to my father. I approached the star of the football team, my eyes hooded. I stopped in front of him; close enough that he could feel my breath on his face. He didn't dare back down, but his eyes were wild and it was clear that he did not like having me so close to him. The fact that we were both remembering my hand on his dick was palpable between us. 

"Jealous?" I whispered in a voice too low to be heard by anyone but him. Rage contorted his face. The only thing that saved me from an attack was the sound of the bell, now we were all going to be late if we didn't run.

"You'll get yours Taylor." He hissed as he pushed by me nearly knocking me to the ground. 

"Promises, promises." I called after him tauntingly but my palms were sweaty and I couldn't deny the relief that rushed through me at the sight of their backs disappearing into the school. "Fuck." I muttered.

"Do you have a death wish?" Daphne asked as we made our own hurried way to homeroom, "Or are you just plain crazy?"  I stopped before I went into the door and she ran into my back. "Damn it Justin." She complained. I turned to look at her.

"Brian wouldn't have just walked away." I told her, "and I couldn't either." She sighed pushing me into class. I knew I would be hearing about this again. She had that female 'we'll talk about this later' look on her face. God help me.

TBC

~Reviews are the meaning of life~


	7. Chapter 7

  
Author's notes: Thanks to everyone who commented last time. I really enjoy hearing what you think about the story.   


* * *

Brian’s POV

Remembering how flustered Daphne had looked made me laugh as I made my way into the Diner. She was nearly as much fun to tease as Justin and much easier to get the best of. I had gone back to the loft to get ready for work. Justin had to be at school early enough that I still had time to stop for coffee and a bagel at the diner on my way uptown.  Maybe I would get lucky and be able to eat alone at the bar. I should have known that was too much to ask. Emmett saw me as soon as I walked in the door and waved me over. Ted turned to see who Emmett was greeting and gave a half-hearted lift of his hand. If I fucking cared I might have been insulted. I joined them at the table and signaled Debbie for some coffee. She glared at me and turned her back. Great she was pissed off about some fucking thing. So who knew if I would get coffee or not. I was going to McDonalds tomorrow.

“So…tell us the details…” Emmett gushed leaning forward like I had the fucking cure for aids or the answer to world peace. I stared at him and finally said.

“The fucking or the sucking?” Which actually made Ted snort. Emmett sat back and laughed. He hit me lightly with his hand, god what a fucking queen he is.

“The dead guy in your foyer…tell us about it.” He insisted. I looked away pretending to look for Deb. I couldn’t explain my reluctance to talk about it. Joking with Justin had been one thing but sitting here now the memory of what I had felt looking at that lifeless body so much like Justin’s came back to haunt me full force. Fuck. 

“Deb where the hell’s my coffee?” I yelled. She rolled her eyes but got out a cup. About fucking time. I turned back to Emmett. “There’s nothing to tell, there was a dead guy in my foyer, the cops came and now he’s gone.” I shrugged. Emmett frowned eager for more exciting details than I was feeding him. I ignored him and accepted my coffee. 

“How’s Sunshine?” Deb asked curtly, “That was a shitty thing you did last night just fucking dumping him like that, after what he saw.” Debbie mother of the year, Christ.

“I dropped him off at school. He’s fine.” I told her not volunteering anything more. “Can I get some fucking breakfast?” She glowered but pulled the pencil from behind her ear. I ordered my bagel and thankfully she went to get it.

“Justin was not in such great shape last night.” Ted commented. Just what I needed daddy advice from the most pathetic queer of us all.

“Is that right? Did he still have his head attached? Well, then he was doing better than that fellow in my foyer don’t you think?” I took a drink of my coffee and nearly scalded my tongue. Fuck! 

“Did you know him?” Emmett asked, “I remember seeing him around sometimes.” He wanted to take the highroad but was unable to resist searching for details. A dead guy in my building being a natural conversation starter too bad I didn’t want any fucking conversation.

“No, I didn’t know him. I think I fucked him in the backroom two or three weeks ago, nothing memorable about it.” I didn’t add the only reason I remembered it at all was because as I was leading the trick to the backroom Ted had made a remark about fucking Justin even when I wasn’t fucking him, the fucking asshole. Christ why did I put up with this? Deb dropped my bagel in front of me.

“Don’t you fucking ever again tell me you are coming after that kid and then don’t show.” She told me her tone acrid. I glanced up at her.

“Oh he always comes before me. It’s his age I think.” I said sagely. Deb’s face slowly changed color. Ted choked and Emmett hid his laugh behind a cough into his napkin, the fucking coward. Debbie slapped me across the arm with her bar towel.

“Brian you are a fucking shit. Do you know the shape that boy was in last night? You have no fucking idea what it was like watching him try to pretend that he wasn’t watching the goddamn door all night waiting for you to walk in; which of course you never fucking did! You’ve got no goddamn right to treat him the way you do. He’s such an innocent and he deserves to be loved and treasured. Not treated like a bag of yesterday’s garbage because you decide to go have your dick sucked” I listened to her rant, my head cocked to one side as I waited for her to wind down.

“I’m not his goddamn keeper.” I told her when she finally paused for breath, “and he seemed no worse for wear when I woke him up to fuck last night, if memory serves he was as eager as he’s ever been to take it up the ass.” I watched her eyes bulge and she seemed to gasp for breath in face of my crudeness. I wondered why that boy was so special to her. He was gay; how did she fucking think he took it? On a goddamn silver platter? She might as well face it. Her Sunshine was a cock sucking faggot just like the rest of us. 

“Oh, I’m sure he did take it. He would do any goddamn thing to be with you. Mores the fucking pity. He needs a nice boy his own age or at least someone who will treat him with some fucking dignity. I’ll tell you one thing you little faggot, deny it all you want Brian Kinney but you are that boy’s goddamn keeper, the only one he has at the moment. You fucking volunteered for the job now you need to fucking do it.” She jabbed me with her finger for emphasis “That means you are going to have to do a hell of a lot more than just lend him your goddamn cock.” She turned on her heel and went back to work feeling she had successfully made her point. I had to admit that she was right about one fucking thing. I had asked for it. “Are you coming Justin?” the words I had uttered that night at his parents house haunted me; had they been left unsaid he would still be at home. I could have been rid of him that easily. What the fuck had I been thinking? Emmett broke into my silent recriminations. 

“Justin really was ok when you got home last night? I didn’t know if leaving him there alone was such a good idea.” he remarked. His question  made me remember the night before; coming home blind drunk to be wrapped in a warm embrace. There had been no fucking accusations, no fucking attitude just Justin his pale skin tinted blue in the florescent light of my bedroom and as smooth as silk against my own. The scent of his hair haunted me. 

“Brian?” Emmett nudged me. Fuck. I had to get the fuck out of here. 

“He’s fucking fine, what in the hell else would he be?” leaning against the gate to the elevator, blonde hair falling over his forehead casting his face into shadow…long fingered hands stiff and lifeless on the carpet. Goddamn it.  Fuck that. Enough was enough. I was going to fucking work where I could have some peace. Emmett was looking at me strangely. What was his fucking problem? So I didn’t want to talk about this shit; so the fuck what? They were all too goddamn nosy anyhow. I pulled a cigarette from the pack in my shirt pocket and stuck it between my lips. I was lighting it on my way out when I nearly ran headlong into Michael and his fucking Doctor. Great, this was just what I needed to complete a totally fucked up morning. 

“Brian!” Michael exclaimed brightly, well give him a fucking award. He glanced past me looking for Justin I supposed. His face brightened visibly when he didn’t see the teen.  I wrapped an arm around his neck and pulled him to me. Leaning forward I kissed him full on the mouth releasing the smoke from my cigarette into the kiss. He breathed it in and then out when he stepped back from me. For the first time my eyes met those of his companion. I smirked acknowledgement at him. The Doctor’s face was a thundercloud of jealousy. There was something almost obscenely intimate about shared smoke. Michael was oblivious. Laughing he demanded to know if I was ok. Finally someone who didn’t ask about the fucking twink. 

“Well apart from dead guys falling to fucking pieces on me, not bad.” I told him, “That was a bitch, but I got a hot fuck at Babylon once the police finally let me go. You know that tall black guy we saw last weekend…the one with the green eyes?” Michael’s eyes went wide.

“No fucking way. He doesn’t do the backroom AND he’s a top.” Michael declared his disbelief .

“Well now just how would you know those things Mikey?” I teased him and he blushed hotly.

“Just what people say that’s all.”  He muttered. I laughed and cuffed him into another hug. 

“Well, last night he did the backroom and he excelled at bottom.” Michael just shook his head what else was there to say? Brian Kinney always got his fucking man. “Well, this is great but I gotta run. Mikey, you and the Doc have a day.” I winked at good ol’ Dr. Dave and received a black glower in return. I kissed Mikey on the lips a final time just because I fucking could and no old arrogant asshole was going to stop me. 

~*~

The day at the office was not all it fucking could have been. I lost the fucking underwear account to an agency who had hired gay models enhance their presentation while I was fucking dead guy sitting. Goddamn assholes. The only good thing about it was that now I didn’t have to try to write copy for some goddamn ugly underwear. The damn briefs bagged in the butt and no respectable queer would be caught fucking dead in them. 

Justin called after lunch . Cynthia came in person to tell me he was on the line. Wondering what the fuck he wanted I grabbed my phone and punched line 2. Cynthia was lingering in the fucking door. No doubt she remembered all too clearly my frantic screaming of Justin’s name yesterday. 

“Do you need something?” I asked coldly she raised a brow and exited the sassy bitch. “What do you fucking want?” I barked into the phone. He answered “nothing really.” “You don’t call me for nothing. If you aren’t dying or tripping on fucking dead guys don’t call me. I know where the fuck you are if I want you.” I paused listening to him and opened the file lying on my desk the next account. Pants, leather pants…now these I could fucking sale. “Good bye Justin.” I hung up the phone and turned my attention to my job. What the fuck did the goddamn boy think? That I was his new goddamn best friend?  How many times did I have to fucking tell him that he didn’t mean shit to me? He was a fuck and that’s all. The fact I was stuck with him, for the moment, didn’t change a goddamn thing. 

I tried to keep my mind off the dead guy but it was impossible. I could not stop thinking that there had to be a fucking reason that he was dumped there. He had not just been thrown out, getting him into the fucking foyer had taken care and planning. It had taken an incredible amount of luck. No one had seen or heard anything. It was beyond imagining that it was a goddamn coincidence that the corpse had so resembled Justin, it’s face hidden so that the effect was unmistakable. Me or Justin; that was the goddamn question I desperately needed to answer. Who had been the target, me or Justin. 

I worked on the new account for a while but I couldn’t get the fucking picture of Justin going home alone out of my mind. I buzzed Cynthia and told her I was leaving early again. 

“None of your fucking business.” I snapped when she asked why, “You can go home too for all I fucking care.” 

“Thanks boss.” Came her somewhat amused voice over the speaker, “Tell Justin I’m looking forward to meeting him.” The smart assed whore. I just loved it when people in my life fucking decided that they know me. Justin had nothing to do with why I was leaving. I just couldn’t concentrate and I think that I had reason enough. I had called the security people and they had assured me they were on the job. Which was fucking nice since they hadn’t been yesterday.  I told them I wanted my loft gone over with a fine toothed comb. If there was a break in the security there I would sue their goddamn asses out of business. 

At 3:30 I just happened to find myself riding past Justin’s school and spotted he and Daphne walking down the sidewalk towards the parking lot. I coasted up beside them. 

“Get in.” I told Justin. He frowned at me but Daphne beamed as sunny as ever, “Did you fucking hear me? I said get in.” Justin balked. I saw it in his face; the boy was going to have to learn not to wear his emotions on his sleeve.

“I can’t. I have plans with Daph.” He said obstinately. I felt a ludicrous surge of pride in him for not just jumping on command and at the same time I was completely annoyed.  I rolled along beside them watching Justin, his hair bright in the sunlight. The dark blazer snug across his broad shoulders. The khakis fit and there was just a hint of that bubble butt visible under the hem of his jacket. My cock ached. Fuck.  “Daphne, I’m so sorry but Justin can’t go with you. It seems that something…” I glanced down at my lap before meeting her eyes again, “has come up.” 

“Oh..my..god,” she blushed hotly and gave him a shove, “It’s ok Brian we can study anytime.” Justin was still balking though he looked a bit fevered. She shoved his shoulder. “Justin, what are you waiting for?” Her cheeks flushed again when she met my eyes. “Bye Brian.” She giggled and hurried away. 

“What are you waiting for? Don’t tell me that you’ve already been fucked today.” I commented. And when he still made no move to join me, I reached over and opened the door. “Get in.” He dumped his book bag into the back and climbed in his bottom lip caught between his teeth. 

“You hung up on me.” He said without looking at me. I frowned trying to figure out what the fuck he was talking about. “When I called you, you fucking hung up on me.” Oh that phone call.

“The fuck I did. I told you goodbye.” I did remember that.

“I was in the middle of a fucking sentence, Brian.” He was really in a snit, “Goodbye doesn’t count if the other person is fucking talking.” I blinked.Fuck me, phone rules. 

“Goodbye counts anytime I fucking say it. I was at work. If you have free time, don’t call me at work. Go jerk off or do something else constructive. Now you never answered me. Have you been fucked today?” I reached over and laid my free hand on his lap and smirked feeling the sizable bulge of his cock there. “Obviously not.” I said with some satisfaction. I slipped his button free and ran the zipper down. His breath caught. I checked my mirrors and entered the flow of traffic.

“Brian, fuck it’s broad daylight someone will see.” He protested weakly sliding lower in the seat in an attempt to assist me. Once his pants were open I slid my hand into the fly of his underwear. My hand closed around his cock and he forgot that he had protested. It was hot, dry and smooth in my hand. I ran my hand the length of it and savored the low groan my action pulled from his throat. I tugged it free of his clothing and began to stroke him more seriously. Keeping my mind on the fucking road with my hand full of Justin’s cock was nearly fucking impossible. That goddamn school uniform looked hot as hell on him. We stopped at a light and I turned to look at him. His head was back against the head rest, eyes closed and his mouth slightly open. His hips lifted slightly even within the confines of the seatbelt in rhythm with the motion of my hand on his dick. Fuck me he was beautiful. I leaned over to kiss him and just as my lips brushed his a siren sounded behind us. My head jerked up and my eyes went to the review mirror. Red and blue lights flashed there and the door to the cop car was opening. 

“Jesus fucking Christ. Get that damn thing back in your pants.” I ran a hand through my hair and Justin looked at me through lust blurred eyes. Fuck. “The fucking cops Justin. Get your prick back in your pants.” He had just finished stuffing when there was a rap on my window. Fuck. I rolled down the window and looked the cop in the eye without flinching. I felt like ‘I jack off minors’ was fucking tattooed to my damn forehead. Justin was stiff with tension at my side. His quickened breathing spoke to me of fear and not the lust we had just been indulging. I started to reach for his hand and jerked back. What the fuck was wrong with me? 

“Please get your license and registration and step out of the vehicle…Mr. ..?” The officer asked before he stepped a safe distance away from the door of the Jeep.

“Kinney.” I supplied reluctantly. Fuck. I reached across Justin and dug through the glove compartment for the registration. I got out of the jeep and handed the papers to the fucking cop. A moment later I handed him my license. He looked at the license and then at me. He leaned and looked at where Justin sat stiff, silent and fucking terrified in the vehicle. 

“Is that your son, Mr. Kinney?” he asked. I didn’t even hesitate. Why the fuck not?

“Sure he is.” I told the cop, “Don’t you see the resemblance?” Justin sucked in a lungful of air that hopefully went unnoticed. 

“Quite frankly, no.” This guy was no fucking fun at all. I wondered what had his goddamn dick in  a twist. He turned to look at Justin again. “Is this your dad son?” he asked soothingly. I was sure that Justin’s panic was clearly written fucking clear as a bell on his goddamn face. 

“Yeah, he is.” His voice didn’t sound nearly as scared as I knew he had to be. One wrong word, or look and Brian Kinney would be off to jail and we both knew it. I still didn’t know why we had attracted his goddamn attention. He turned back to me.

“Mr. Kinney is there a reason you stop at traffic lights and fail to move on when they change?” Fuck me the light had turned green while I had been groping Justin. I almost started laughing. Now there was a fucking interesting situation. Should I tell him the goddamn truth just to see the look on his face?

“It’s my fault.” Justin said before I could say anything. I ran my hand through my hair and struggled not to laugh. Oh God this was going to be the fucking end of me. If my tongue was planted any more firmly in my cheek I would never get it out. I could not laugh. I could not. But in my imagination Justin was explaining as clearly as he could how his hard young cock had distracted me from the traffic lights and could the kind officer please let us go. I resorted to biting my tongue in an effort to control my very ill-timed amusement.

“Your fault?” He cop leaned in with a sympathetic look on his face. Like the asshole really gave a shit, “How can it be your fault? Your father was driving.” I leaned against the jeep and waited. I couldn’t shut him up so this had better be fucking good.

“Yeah, I got in a fight at school and they suspended me. He was yell…err talking to me about it.” He sighed and I could just imagine his face. Oh my god there was no fucking way I was going to live through this. “I didn’t really mean to but…it just happened. He’s really pissed though, you know?” The cop was nodding Justin had him all the way sucked in.  Ah well not surprising. No one sucks quite like Justin.

“I see.” The cop said noncommittally. He turned back to me.

“Please remain here Mr. Kinney while I call in your tags and license. I would suggest that you refrain from any further…talking to your son for the moment.” He turned and began to walk towards his police car. The thought of fleeing the scene crossed my mind but the asshole had my license and knew where I lived. I leaned against the jeep and waited. When he returned his expression was unreadable. 

“You are the Brian Kinney who discovered the body up Liberty Avenue way yesterday?” he asked. My gut tightened as he glanced again into the car at my very blond ‘son’. 

“Yeah.” I said shortly this might get really ugly now. He handed me back my papers. 

“You didn’t tell the officers yesterday that you have a son.” He glanced into the car again but there was something different now…

“They didn’t fucking ask if I had a son. They asked who lived in the apartment with me. Sonny Boy lives with his mother. A bitch who would drive a straight man gay.” At my words a glint of humor appeared in the blue eyes that were no longer cold or disinterested. Fucking Christ. I couldn’t believe it. He was gay. 

“I’ve met that type once or twice.” He commented agreeably. I took a step nearer and he didn’t back away. He handed me a pink slip of paper.

“This is your warning Mr. Kinney. Be more careful in the future that you are not obstructing traffic when you are disciplining your son.” He glanced in at Justin again. It was clear that he no longer believed that Justin was my son or that I had been disciplining him but neither was he going to arrest me. His eyes met mine before moving back to Justin. Fuck, like that was it? No fucking way. 

“Sorry, he’s not weaned yet.” I said opening the door of the jeep. 

“Shame.” Was all he said. He pressed a slip of paper into my hand. “Call me when he is.” I let my eyes travel over him. Tall and trim with a head full of dark thick hair and dark blue eyes. Why not.

“Sure.” I agreed. I paused and held out my hand. He shook it firmly. “And thanks.”

He nodded and retreated to his cruiser. Justin sighed and sank back into his seat. 

“Fuck.” He muttered. I grinned at him and reached over to slide his zipper down. 

“Now…where were we…”

TBC

Reviews are ambrosia. Tell me what you thought!


	8. Chapter 8

  
Author's notes: Thank you for the comments I recieved on the last chapter. It's so nice to know what you think!  


* * *

Justin’s POV

I was supposed to be doing my homework. That’s what Brian told me anyhow. I was sitting at the table with my books spread around me, but I couldn’t concentrate. I read the words but by the time I reached the end of a sentence, I had lost any thread of meaning. Brian was across from me, his laptop open in front of him as he worked. I covertly studied his face. I didn’t want to catch his attention but it was impossible not to admire how beautiful he is. His brow furrowed just a little as he concentrated and every so often his tongue would wonder into his cheek. God how had I gotten so lucky? He lifted his head from his work just enough to meet my eyes. Blushing hotly I looked back down on my papers. The last thing I needed was for him to catch me mooning over him.

Not mooning took serious concentration. I stared at my paper where I was supposed to be filling in the definitions for my Latin vocabulary words. Who the fuck cared. I picked up my pencil and began to decorate the edges of the paper lost in thought. After the cop had stopped us that afternoon Brian had given me a ride home that I was unlikely to ever forget. His hand on my cock had effectively erased my fear of discovery and I had not been much more than a panting puddle of Jello by the time he parked the jeep. When we got inside the building we discovered the police tape had been removed from the elevator and he had grabbed me by the jacket and pulled me inside. 

His hands were under my blazer before the door closed. My shirt opened under his deft fingers. My head fell back against the wall when his mouth moved down my neck and his hand stroked the soft skin of my belly. His hands slid up my chest and he nibbled the underside of my jaw; chills shot down my spine. My pencil dug into the paper. God it had been unbelievable, his larger body pressed mine into the wall of the elevator and when his hands cupped my face he had stared into my eyes as he lowered his mouth to mine. If there was anything in this world like Brian’s kiss I was fucked if I knew what it was. That was one of the first things he taught me. My impression of what it meant to be gay, beyond my own yearnings, had been vague and undefined. Gleaned from books and magazines hidden in my room and nervous peeks at porn sites on the net, part of that impression had been that men didn’t kiss much or often. The material I had access to had given the impression of frantic coupling with little attention paid to getting there. The first time Brian kissed me I had nearly come just from the feel of his tongue in my mouth alone. 

It had been no different today. His fingers stroking along my cheekbones as his mouth nibbled and bit at my lips had stolen my breath and when his mouth slanted over mine, his tongue thrusting and tangling with mine, my knees nearly gave out. Only the press of his hard body holding me against the wall kept me from sinking to my knees. Although from the feel of his cock digging into my belly my knees would not have been a bad place to be. My hands fisted in the sleeves of his coat and all I could do was hang on as he took command of my body. His hands slid down and around to the small of my back, moving into the already loosened waist band of my pants to cup my ass and pulling me tighter against him. One of my arms wrapped around his neck and my other hand slid into his hair, our tongues mated frantically in the wet heat of my mouth. He pulled a low groan from my throat and my body arched into his. 

The sound of Brian clearing his throat brought me abruptly back to the present and I looked up from my paper to meet his eyes. My breathing had quickened noticeably and my eyes were glazed with remembered passion waking again in my cock. 

“What?” I asked trying to pretend that I was paying attention to my books and that I had not just been reliving everything he had done to me earlier. He smirked and his tongue wandered into his cheek for a moment but he didn’t say anything just turned back to what he was doing, leaving me to my thoughts and my quickly hardening cock. 

He had pulled me off the elevator, never taking his mouth off mine; not even when I stumbled because my pants had fallen around my ankles. One arm wrapped firmly around my waist kept me tight against him as he kissed me with ever increasing fervor. I was starting to wonder if we were even going to make it inside. Pinned against the outside of the loft door my underwear joined my pants around my ankles and my cock sprang free only to be captured in his firm grip. One hand roughly stroked my dick as the other punched the security code and grabbed the handle of the door to slide it open. The mechanics of how we ended up inside with me being ravished against the inside of the door instead of the outside without me falling flat on my face in the transition were lost to me. In my passion induced fog it seemed that one minute I had my back against the outside of the door and the next I had my cheek pressed against the inside and I could feel Brian behind me unfastening his belt. His shirt and coat already in the floor. 

I reached over my head to grab my blazer between my shoulder blades and pulled it and my shirt off over my head in one deft move. Fuck school boy fantasies I wanted to feel his skin against mine. I kicked off my Nikes and stepped out of my pants and underwear. Brian made some indecipherable noise behind me when I leaned forward into the door again with my legs spread putting my ass on its best display. Heat rolled through my gut and I shifted my feet impatiently. 

“Brian.” I groaned in complaint and he pressed something into my hand.

“You open that.” He said and I heard the unique sound of a condom package being torn open and my entire body trembled with anticipation. “Open it.” He said again, I felt his cock brush against my ass as he shifted to put the condom on. I looked at what he had handed me, a small blue pack of lube. It was the first time I had ever seen such a thing and I stared at it in silence before collecting my wits enough to tear the top off. Brian held out his hand and I squeezed the contents into it. He rubbed it between his fingers and leaned forward to nuzzle my neck. My skin tingled where his breath touched it but my attention refocused immediately to where his fingers were delving between the cheeks of my ass. His fingers were slick and cold with lube. I drew a deep breath and leaned my forehead against the door trying to will myself to relax. His finger entered me with gentle pressure, spreading lube and easing me toward his penetration. I pushed back into his touch and he pressed another finger into me. 

“Christ, you’re tight,” he moaned into my ear, “Just a minute.” His fingers were gone and I protested vocally. He laughed at me and pressed another packet into my hand, “The pain is a part of it, hurting you is not.” He told me and licked a hot path across my shoulder and up my neck. This time there was no hesitation. I tore open the second package of lube and squeezed it into his hand with a practiced gesture. He leaned over me and pushed his fingers back into my ass. Two from the beginning this time, stretching me gently but insistently. He braced over me with one forearm over my head against the door, his face in my hair, the only movement between us was that of his fingers inside me. When they began to move more easily he pushed a third into me ensuring that he had prepped me sufficiently. I gasped and pushed backwards again. It was enough. I wanted his cock inside me. I turned my head around far enough to allow him capture my lips with his own. His fingers slipped out of me and were replaced by the broad probing head of his cock. My breath caught in expectation. He pushed forward and breached me with steady pressure that revealed his extensive experience. I hissed as my body stretched to accommodate him but the burn of his entry was  not unpleasant and once he was buried inside me it soon subsided. One arm wrapped around my waist and the other continued to brace him as he pulled out slowly, his mouth still devouring mine. 

“Harder” I moaned into our kiss and before I could take my next breath he had caught my hands in his own and trapped them over my head against the door. He thrust forward and burying his cock hard and deep in my ass. 

“Like that?” he growled, pounding into me repeatedly, I could do little but pant my consent. God yes like that…just…like…that. I lost myself to the feel of his cock moving inside me and his mouth on my neck and shoulders. His breathing grew more ragged and his thrusts more erratic. I had been pushing back to meet his thrusts but suddenly he freed my hands and grabbed my hips in an iron grip holding me perfectly still as his body rode mine without mercy. His cock plunged into my ass over and over again. I could imagine the expression on his face and the way he would throw his head back as his muscles tensed. His dick brushed my prostate and I cried out bucking in his grasp but he didn’t loosen his grip on me. It was an incredible rush to know that he was so close to coming and that it was my body giving him such pleasure. 

“Fuck,” he gasped, “Goddamn Justin.” And he hunched over me shuddering his fingers digging so hard into my skin there was no doubt there would be bruises there tomorrow. 

“Justin, what the fuck are you doing?” Brian’s bemused voice broke into my memory bringing me abruptly and unwillingly back into the present.  I was leaning over my paper but my eyes hadn’t seen the writing on it for several long minutes, minutes long enough for me to relive our entire exploits from that afternoon. I shifted in my seat. Damn my cock ached and I barely resisted the urge to reach down and give it a good rub. “You’re breathing harder than you did when I had my cock up your ass this afternoon.” My face flamed scarlet at his teasing and I groaned wishing the chair or the floor or something would simply swallow me.  I tried to will my heart to return to its normal speed and pattern of beating but it was not cooperating.

“Nothing. Reading, studying…just nothing.” I muttered. He reached over and grabbed the paper I had pretty much mangled digging my pencil into it and doodling erotic drawings around the margin. He snorted when he saw it and tossed it back to me. 

“Do you intend to turn it in like that?” he asked seriously but his eyes laughed at me, and impossibly I turned even more red than before, “I thought I told you to do your homework, not daydream about cock…” Glaring at him, I stuffed it into the back of my book and retrieved a new sheet. I wrote down the first word and then steeled myself to meet his eyes while he was closing down his laptop.

“Are we going to Babylon tonight?” I asked hopefully and glanced back down to fill in the first answer. This wasn’t as hard as I thought it was. Brian tucked the laptop safely into its bag.

“We never go to Babylon.” He corrected me. “Tonight you aren’t going anywhere.” he added as he moved toward the bathroom presumably to shower, “It’s a school night.” I watched him go in silence. I didn’t even try to protest. He and I had done this round before. ‘It’s a school night’ meant he was going to get fucked and he didn’t need me there to do it. I wanted to stroke my ego and believe that I might even be a hindrance, but I knew beyond any doubt that wasn’t true. Brian fucked who he wanted to fuck; when he wanted to fuck them and if a guy couldn’t get that clear in his head he better stay out of Brian’s path. I really didn’t want to go anywhere.  I did have to get my Latin done. It was already a couple days late and I was still nicely sore from earlier, just enough to twinge once in a while and trigger vivid pictures of the incident in my mind. I forced my mind away from that distracting path and copied my words in a line down the left margin and started filling in the definitions, most of which I knew already. It would be nice to stay home, but not alone. I sighed, fat chance I had of getting Brian to stay. 

“Call Daphne.” He would tell me if I dared to complain, or worse give me that ‘what a pathetic faggot you are’ look as he went out the door to party at Babylon and fuck some stud. I wrote another definition. Brian returned clad in leather pants and black wife beater tank, typical Babylon attire for him. He hadn’t put his shoes on yet and padded across the floor on bare feet to look at my work over my shoulder. God for someone who didn’t want the responsibility that I represented he could be an absolute nag. 

“Hard?” he asked a his fingers sliding through my hair. Well, it hadn’t been for almost the first time today but he was fixing that nicely. Oh the stupid Latin. 

“I have a little trouble with it.” I told him with a shrug, “I’ll get it.” He picked up the paper and read the list of words to me his pronunciation perfect. I stared at him with more than a little surprise.

“You know Latin?” I asked and he laughed at me.

“I know a lot of things,” he glanced at the clock. It was only about 9:30, “It’s still early. I have time to help you for a little while, if you want.” I had to bite my tongue to keep from gushing. If I wanted? I shrugged.

“Sure, if you want.” I said. He went to flop on the couch my list in hand. I grabbed my book, and making sure my last ‘A’ in Latin was not sticking out of the pages, I followed him. I plopped down on the opposite end of the couch and turned sideways. I planted my feet on the cushions and leaning my forearms on my knees watched Brian and waited for him to start. He slumped casually, his long legs stretched out in front of him and I wondered briefly what god thought it fair that someone existed who could look so fucking hot no matter what they did.  

“Words or definitions?” he asked and I stared at him blankly. “Justin, words or definitions, how are you studying this?” I blinked. Oh.

“The words will be on the test; I have to fill in the definitions.” In the end I didn’t know  why he had even asked. He drilled me on those words and definitions until I could have said them backwards in my sleep. Who would have thought that Brian could be such a task master. When I protested he had frowned at me.

“If you are going to do something, then fucking do it.” He told me and I knew that those were words that he lived his life by. Brian didn’t do things half way. He was a damn good ad exec, the best at his firm and he was one hell of a queer. The thought made me grin and I dug in, determined to make him proud of me. I never had much trouble memorizing the list but never before had I felt that I really had the words and facts on the list in my command. I was unsure why I would ever need to know the meaning for depopulo but I guess you never could tell. When I commented as much to Brian he shook his head. “Christ Justin don’t waste your fucking time learning stuff you have no goddamn use for,” he tossed the paper at me. He got to his feet and my stomach sank. Why had I dared hoped he might skip Babylon just for tonight? I’m an idiot. He ruffled my hair and headed for the door.

“Don’t wait up, Dear.” He called sarcastically, “I’ll be late. You might even say ‘fucking late’.” Laughing at his own wit he slid the loft door shut and I heard the chirp of the security system engaging. Asshole. He hadn’t even kissed me and I fucking hated for him to do that goddamn thing with my hair. It made me feel like I was fucking twelve years old. I toyed with the idea of going any fucking way. He wasn’t my goddamn father and as he had made crystal clear to me on any number of occasions he was not my partner. I didn’t have to fucking do what he told me. I stood and went for my jacket but the idea of facing his displeasure quickly quailed any true desire to play tonight at Babylon. Brian was not always the most pleasant of people. Shit, face it sometimes he was a goddamn prick. Fuck. I headed to the refrigerator for a beer. Maybe there was something good on TV.

TBC

  
Thanks for reading  
I dream of comments...you can make my dreams come true...

 


	9. Interlude 1

  
Author's notes:

There will be several Interludes during the course of the story. Some, like this one, will be extremely short some will be much longer. All are vital to the development of the storyline and the depth of the plot. I hope you will forgive the brevity of this update and that you will let me know what you think of it. (the content not the length ;P) Thank you so much for your comments on the last chapter.

* * *

My beloved lay sleeping. Safely sleeping. This would not take long and I would be back at his side. He would not know that I had been away. He could never know. I did this for him, but still he could never know.  If I was careful. If I was patient. The one who caused his pain would learn his lessons. I would teach him. My beloved need never know. 

It was easy. They were eager to come with me. I gave them pleasure before they slept. I took them away from the pain. Into the darkness and the peace of sleep. They were tortured in this life. I knew how to rescue them. I had done so many times before. Now they could help me as I helped them. They could help me teach the lesson. 

I was not at all sure that he could learn. He seemed to be too proud to admit that he can be taught. In his arrogance he believed he already held all the answers. I had time. If he did not learn the lesson one way. Then he could be taught another. If fear did not teach, then pain most surely would. It did not matter how he learned only that he did. And in the end…he would. Oh my yes, he would learn, how well he would learn. 

My beloved slept. And now another slept as well. I kissed gently the pale cheek that had given everything to help me teach. He had cried before he slept but now there was no more pain. He would never hurt again. I closed the door to his resting place. I put away the tools that helped me teach. It was not time for another lesson, not yet. I was ready now. I would know when it was time. Tonight I would leave this one to sleep alone and return to my beloved.  He must not wake without me. For he must not know. He must never know.

TBC


	10. Chapter 9

  
Author's notes: Thank you for the comments for the last chapter. I hope you all enjoy this one as well. There are no warnings for this chapter.  


* * *

Brian’s POV

I groaned and slowly opened my eyes. Fuck, it was morning.  I had just lived through the most fucked up days of my life and you would think that goddamn night could have had the decency to hang around until I was ready to get up. I could hear the shower. That meant Justin, with his fucking “sunshine” smile, would soon be in here to drag me out of bed to take him to school. I muttered a few vile curses to myself and tried to remember why I had told the brat that he couldn’t ride the bus from here. The reason was escaping me at the moment. I slowly sat up. My head was pounding like someone was in there trying to get out through my fucking temple. I rubbed my forehead and ran my hand through my hair. Christ. 

Justin the fucking little twat. He was behind all this. Him and his goddamn “it’s better than no father at all” speech. His words and a faulty memory had driven me to go visit my own father. The drunken bastard; the same old story, not even a new tune or a new sheet of paper. Always asking for a handout, continually regretting that he had ever become a father at all. I had news for goddamn Justin Taylor there were worse fucking things than having no father at all. There, that right there was the fucking thought that was the bottom of my troubles. God damn shit. The day before yesterday I had gone to see the bastard who had fathered me. Yesterday I had told Lindsay and Melanie that I would not give up the parental rights to my son. Fuck had that been a goddamn scene or what? I couldn’t be swayed, I never fucking could once I made up my mind. I had gone there to sign the papers. I swear to fucking god I had, but the goddamn pen wouldn’t write and then…Christ. I couldn’t shake the vision of Justin’s reflection in the mirror as his eyes met mine. His belief in what he was saying, that even a sorry father was better than none at all, shining in their depths. Fuck. I got up and pulled on my jeans. That wasn’t the main reason. I had to admit that if I was going to be honest with myself. And who the fuck had time for that? Put it away. I told myself, just put it away.

“Justin are you fucking coming?” I yelled pulling a t-shirt on over my head and stepping into my loafers.

“No.” Came his infuriatingly cheerful voice, “but I’m ready to go.” He came out of the bathroom once more dressed as the proper little school boy. Just thinking about what he would let me do to that hot little ass under those khakis stirred my cock and challenged my resolve to get him to school on time. Fuck I had to get a grip. I grabbed my keys and he tossed me my wallet from where it’s place on the bar. 

“Get one of those protein bars for breakfast.” I told him, he skipped eating in the morning way too often. Fuck he was turning me goddamn domestic. I had to figure out what to do with him and get him the fuck out of here. He dug through a drawer to find the chocolate ones he favored and shouldered his bag.

“OK, let’s go.” He said with a flash of that smile. I glared and led him to the jeep. Thoughts of Gus wouldn’t leave me alone. His sweet trusting baby face had touched me in a way that I didn’t understand and that I had no way to defend against. He was mine in a way no other person had ever been before. If I didn’t screw it up he would love me in a way that I had never known. Fuck. My entire life was one huge screw up. I glanced over to where Justin rode beside me in silence for a change. One day my fucking kid might riding in a goddamn jeep on the way to school with a man he barely knew because he couldn’t stand to live with me. I almost laughed at the thought, my son didn’t have to live with me. He had the dykes. Goddamn Melanie. She already hated me, not that I gave a fuck. Now she would hunt me down and castrate me if she could. I didn’t even blame her. Fuck. I had agreed. From the beginning I had told them I didn’t want the goddamn kid and when it was time to sign the papers I would. I had intended to right up until I found out that I couldn’t. 

“Don’t count on your father.” I had told my son and I had felt Justin beside me about to bust out of his skin wanting to protest but he managed to keep his fucking mouth shut for once.  My plan had been simple, the dykes wanted sonny boy, I didn’t and so I would give him to them. I had fully intended to do it but something got in the way. Something that tore inside when I remembered growing up knowing that my father wished I had never been born and even more than that, had actively tried to orchestrate my murder. Long ago I had buried that part of me so fucking deep that I had thought it would never see the goddamn light of day again. But it had been resurrected in all its glory when I had held my living breathing son for the first time. I had been rejected sight unseen by my asshole of a father and now those cunts were asking me to do the same thing to my son. Well fuck them. I might be the sorriest goddamn father that ever walked the earth, but my son would never look at himself in the mirror and try to find in the lines of his face or the shape of his character the thing that had caused his own father to despise him. I glanced at Justin again, I did not even have the security that came from knowing what was wrong with me.  Christ, what the fuck was wrong with me?? I scrubbed my hand over my face and wished I had a drink. 

Justin’s concern was coming off him in fucking waves. He had shown what a twat he could be when I got home just in time to take him to school yesterday and he had been there waiting, not ready to go but ready to scream at me like he was a goddamn wife. I had not minced words reminding him who the fuck I was and just what he was and then I left him there to get to school or not. I lost myself in drugs, alcohol and sex and it was only when Mikey had brought me home in the wee hours before dawn that I had discovered he had not gone at all. Mikey had passed the fucking responsibility of me to him with bad grace but Justin had ignored him. Mikey’s fucking doctor was waiting and so I chased him out. I could get in my bed without goddamn nurse maids.

Justin had ignored my unwillingness completely. He made me eat. He gave me a shower that didn’t include my ramming my cock up his tender young ass, what a loss that had been. He had put me to bed and climbed in beside me. I had been too fucked up to protest any of it. What I didn’t understand was why the fuck he wasn’t still pissed off. Justin could maintain a pout that sometimes rivaled Emmett’s. I wondered about that right up until he had wrapped me in his arms, pressed his face into my damp hair and whispered. “Lindsay called.” I had passed out before I could tell him what I thought about that fucking piece of information. That had been about two hours ago. Fuck my mouth tasted like shit and my eyes felt like they had been lined with sandpaper.

That’s what was causing this ridiculous introspection, my goddamn hangover. I’d have a shot or ten when I got back to the loft and fix that. I was Gus’ father and I was going to stay his fucking father and the goddamn lesbians could just get over it. I brought the jeep to a screeching halt in front of Justin’s school and waited in a stony silence for him to get out. I could feel his eyes on me but I didn’t turn to look at him. He touched my thigh and then opened the door.

“You did the right thing Brian.” He said and managed to get out and intercept Daphne before she became the next victim of my foul temper. Fuck me what did I care what that goddamn twink thought about my actions. He was nothing to me, fucking nothing. Christ I needed a drink, I called Cynthia and told her that I would be out again today and that no I didn’t have the fucking flu. Just this massive fucking headache. Traffic was light and cooperated with my desire to out race my thoughts. If the fucking police had stopped me there would have been more than a warning in it for me. I didn’t care; but I quickly discovered that I could not out-run either my thoughts or my feelings. I was in a tangle of convoluted emotion. I felt as if I had betrayed Lindsay, who really was my friend no matter what I thought of Mel. But at the same time I was sure that I would betray myself beyond repair if I did what she wanted and signed away my son. I would not betray myself. I was the only one in this fucking world that I could count on and nobody gay or straight was ever going to take that away from me.

Having my resolution finally firm and justified in my mind helped to calm my temper and by the time I was back in the loft even the headache was bearable. I decided to go ahead into work as soon as I had juice or maybe a shake. Tossing my keys onto the bar I made my way to the refrigerator lost in thought mentally coordinating the rest of my morning. I had that leather pants account to finish for presentation tomorrow but that was no problem, it had been the easiest fucking account I had worked on in months. I opened the refrigerator and peered into what had once been the comfortingly empty depths…pre-twink, now…ah now Justin cooked and it seemed he did so with flair…or at least with abundance. My refrigerator no longer reflected my free and easy bachelor life style and instead looked like something out of Martha Stewart’s kitchen. It was filled with foil wrapped packets and plastic containers with snap on lids. Where the fuck had those come from? I know there was no Tupperware in my goddamn cabinets. Ah there was that lemon pie he fixed a couple days ago, maybe I could stand the taste of that. I often berated him for the high calorie foods he continually set in front of me but his only response to date had been smart assed comments about me being too skinny, even his fucking mother said so. I hesitated reaching for the pie, ah fuck it a couple extra miles on the treadmill would take care of the calories and the thing was damn good; melt in your mouth ambrosia if the fucking truth was told. 

I set the pie on the counter and spotted my juice pushed into a far back corner. Christ he and I were really going to have to have a chat about this. I shifted some things out of the way so I wouldn’t knock anything out when I pulled out the container. Something caught my eye and I frowned. What the fuck was that? It looked like a can of paint, one of those pint sized cans but what the fuck was it doing in the refrigerator? There was enough crap in there without the fucking artist storing his supplies in there as well. I had never heard of paint that had to be refrigerated. I took it out and looked at it. The can was unremarkable, some off brand of acrylic paint. I shook my head and set it aside. The kid was fucking weird that’s all. There was nothing on the label about refrigerating it. I would put it under the sink or something after I ate. 

Soon a healthy…or not so healthy portion of pie was in front of me at the table. I had even gone so far as to indulge in a small glass of that damn milk he was always trying to force on me. Fuck the goddamn brat was going to make me fat. I lifted the first bite to my mouth and paused my eyes going again to the can of paint that was still sitting on the cabinet next to the sink. I had forgotten to put it up and there was something about it that bothered me. Something eating at the edge of my mind. I couldn’t put my finger on it and tried to shrug off the feeling. I took a bite of the pie but I wasn’t enjoying it because of  that damned paint. Goddamn fuck this. I got up to put it away, out of sight out of mind right? Fucking right. Standing in front of it I didn’t pick it up. What had the goddamn can been doing in the refrigerator and why was it bugging me so fucking much? I pulled out my phone and dialed Justin.

“Brian?” his voice when he answered was somewhat incredulous, “Is everything ok?” I could hear the sounds of the school hall and realized I had caught him between classes. Christ, like that mattered. I started to make a lame excuse but my eyes settled on the can again. If a stupid paint can could look ominous and feel dark that one did. What the fuck was going on?

“Justin, why did you put this paint in the refrigerator?” I asked him making myself pick up the can again. It felt full but there were clear signs around the edges of the lid that it had been opened before. 

“Paint? Didn’t put any paint in there; why the fuck would I do that?” I could imagine his shrug, “I don’t even have my paint stuff. It’s still in my room at home.” He paused, “I was going to ask you if I could bring it to the loft but I didn’t know if you would want me painting there. It can be messy.” I looked around at my hardwood floors. I wasn’t sure I wanted him painting in here but that was a subject for another time. Right now I wanted to know where the fuck this paint had come from. 

“There was a pint of acrylic paint in the refrigerator.” I told him impatiently, he had to have put it there I sure as fuck hadn’t and here it was in my goddamn hand. A sudden chill crawled down my spine and I set the can abruptly on the counter. I almost took a step back from it. “Justin, what the fuck is it doing in there?” I was starting to get pissed off.  

“A pint? Christ Brian what the fuck would I want with a pint of paint? If it was mine it would be those little tubes, the ones you buy at the art store not that crap for painting houses they sell at the hardware store.” He was sounding more than a little put out himself. I almost laughed imagining him standing at his locker digging for books and trying to figure out what the fuck my problem was, don’t I fucking wish I knew. “What color is it?” he asked as if that would have some bearing on where the damn thing had come from.  I looked at the label and opened my mouth to answer him when suddenly the reason for my apprehension became all to clear. Fucking Christ this could not be happening. 

“Never mind.” I said shortly into the phone, “I just remembered something about it. Talk to you later.” I hung up without waiting for an answer. I stood staring at the paint can. Justin’s question had brought into focus what it was that bothered me about the paint. It was Red. I didn’t have to think hard to remember the last thing of note that I had seen painted red. That dead guy’s cock, once he had been out of the shadow and laid out flat for the body bag, it had been very, very red.  I wouldn’t forget that. They thought I should know why but I hadn’t.  Who the fuck had heard of something that fucking weird? And I had seen and done a lot of fucking weird stuff. It hadn’t mattered then why some dead guy had a red cock. Suddenly it mattered enough to dry out my mouth. Looking at that can of paint I knew, I knew beyond any bit of reason or sanity that he had not painted his own cock. It had been done by whoever had killed him. And whoever that was had put this can in my refrigerator. He had been inside the loft and he wanted me to know it. 

Fuck. I rubbed the back of my hand over my mouth and my fingers through my hair. FUCK. When. When had he been here? That day? The next? When the fuck could he have been here? How had he got in without setting off the fucking security alarm? What the fuck was I supposed to do with that goddamn can? Call the fucking police? Panic fluttered just outside my control, threatening to overwhelm me it had not been long enough since I had been standing over that body so much like Justin’s for me to face this calmly. Then I remembered that the police had searched the loft the night of the murder, they had searched all the apartments in the building. I was sure this can had not been here then or they would have found it. I rarely got into the refrigerator for more than water or a juice and Justin kept my water in the door so that I at least didn’t have to dig for that. So this can had been put there after the night of the murder, but I had no way of knowing exactly when that had been. Fuck the goddamn alarm was always set, there wasn’t a time that he could just have just fucking waltzed in here. Even though he done just that into the supposedly secure foyer. That was different, everyone had that number. It would not be very difficult to get into the hallway, my loft was a different matter entirely... and then I remembered that Justin had been home alone two nights in a row. No matter how I stayed on him about it he habitually failed to set the alarm if he was inside the apartment. My blood ran cold at the thought. Oh fuck no, not Justin. I tried to tighten my control but the panic threatened again as the certainty that that killer had not only been in my apartment, but that he had been here while Justin was sleeping blossomed in my gut. 

My imagination ran rampant. Justin sleeping on the couch as he had been when Mikey dragged me home this morning. The loft door sliding open and a dark figure slipping inside. I couldn’t move I was transfixed by the near vision unfolding in my mind. The loft lit by the fluorescents in the bedroom, I never turned them off and there wasn’t a time that the apartment was ever in complete darkness.  I was sure that said something embarrassing about my mental condition but didn’t dwell on it. The point was my habit of always leaving a light on would make navigating the apartment easy even for someone totally unfamiliar with it. In my mind’s eye the figure moved with little caution to the refrigerator and opened it without fear to place that can inside. 

I shook my head in an attempt to clear it. The real question was not how he had done it but what was I going to do now. Did I call the police to tell them a can of paint that I thought had been used to paint some dead guy’s fucking cock was in my goddamn refrigerator? Fuck how did I even know that’s what this was? It was true enough that any number of people could have done it but staring at that can I didn’t believe it.

I forced myself to pick up the can. Christ the can wasn’t evil. It was just a can of fucking paint and to prove it to myself I pried off the lid. It came off much more easily than I had anticipated. Paint lids stick notoriously after having been used, the paint acts as a fairly competent glue once it’s dry. The ease with which the lid came off surprised me and I splashed some on the counter. Fuck! I grabbed a towel to wipe it up and the smell hit me. I dropped the towel. My eyes widened in horror and my stomach rolled. It was not paint in that goddamn can. Fucking Christ. I grabbed the lid and fumbled with it my hands shaking as I tried to get it back on the can, trying not to breathe. I finally got the lid securely pressed back on and now panic beat real wings in my chest. The worry about paint seemed trite and insignificant. The can was full, nearly to the top, with blood. I fought desperately with the sense of helpless panic that came with knowing that someone had come into my home and left this here. Some twisted dark creature who murdered blond twinks, bled them dry and left them as a calling card on my front door. 

What the fuck was I going to do. I imagined calling the police and trying to explain exactly how I came to have a can of blood in my secure apartment. I would be guilty from the start simply for being queer and if not me then Justin. What the if it fucking came out that we had covered up that he was the one who really found the body? I could fucking deal with them thinking I had done this fucking crap. What if they thought it was Justin. The thought of him being tormented by the goddamn police made my blood run cold but what had me truly frozen with indecision was the imagined vision of him on the couch sleeping innocently, his arm over his head, his mouth open like it always was when he slept on his back while a dark figure stood watching. A figure with blood on his hands and murder in his heart. I forced back the panic and took control. I had already made my choices about this when I removed Justin from the scene initially. Suddenly calm I wiped up the rest of the blood and put the can and the cloth into the trashcan under the newspaper that Justin had thrown out yesterday. I washed my hands and disinfected the counter. And then went to get dressed. 

I did not need the bit of yellow hair neatly cut and tied with a bit of string laying on my dresser to remind me how vulnerable we were and the sight of it bred no new panic in my heart. I was being warned but even though I could not figure out what the warning was I was no longer afraid. I couldn’t imagine anyone hating Justin enough to want him dead, or even hating me enough to kill him. I considered Justin’s father but even having been attacked by the man twice I could not imagine him going this far to insure that I left his son alone. What the fuck did all this mean? My worst fear was that it meant Justin was next. Well the asshole might think so, but it would never be Justin. I knew that I would have to protect him myself. One lesson I had learned well over the years was that the police were never a queer’s friend and if we were going to survive we would have to look after ourselves to do it. I pocketed the lock of hair. I wasn’t going to forget this. That fucker had already made his biggest mistake. He had fucked with Brian Kinney, and Brian fucking Kinney always gets his man.

  
TBC  
Comments treasured

 


	11. Chapter 10

  
Author's notes:

Thank you for the comments for last chapter , sorry this has been so long coming but here it is at last. No particular warnings for this chapter. Implied violence nothing graphic. Enoy!

* * *

_Justin's POV_  
   
I frowned at my hair in the mirror. Fuck, I don't know why I hadn't noticed how bad the barber had screwed it up when I had it cut a couple weeks ago, but he had chopped it to shit. My hair was short anyhow, the goddamned school rules made sure of that, but this was just stupid. There was a place across the top that was so short it stood on end and nothing I did seemed to help. I guessed the idiot had made a bad cut and it had been so short that it hadn't been really noticeable, but now after growing out it looked like shit. It really pissed me off. When combing through my hair a couple days ago it had looked like someone had chopped it off while I was sleeping. That was stupid, who would have done that? Maybe Brian took it for a fucking keepsake. The thought nearly made me laugh; yeah right. When I had come out of the bathroom bitching about it after noticing it that first time, he looked like he was chewing nails. Christ hadn't he ever gotten a bad hair cut? He had walked over to me in that lazy way he had and run his hand through my hair just before he kissed me.  
   
"Don't fucking whine." He told me and kissed me again; a hot lingering kiss that had nearly curled my toes, fuck who cared about something as stupid as sticking up hair if  he wanted to kiss like that. He hadn't been able to keep his hands out of my hair, continually fingering that place where my hair had been cropped too short. He fucked me across the back of the couch and then left me there in a panting sweating heap. Pants snapped, condom trashed, I had  barely turned around before the door was slamming closed behind him. Christ, it had been like walking on egg shells around here since then. Rage seemed to seethe just beneath his skin and it took next to nothing to set him off, but just as quickly as I could find myself on the receiving end of his unleashed temper – I could find myself against a wall, across a table anywhere he could fuck my brains out.   
   
He bitched constantly about that goddamn alarm. I just stopped listening to him; Christ I could remember to set the fucking thing. I wasn't a kid. What difference did it make if it was set when I was in here? Did he really believe a crook was going to walk in and announce he was taking the TV while I was watching it? Give me a fucking break, but as stupid as it all was I didn't argue. If he wanted that damn alarm set anytime we weren't going in or out the door then fine. It was his fucking loft as he had reminded me about nine million times in the last two days. Something had happened. Something that was just out of my reach. I couldn't understand it, and whatever it was he wasn't giving it away, but he was about to drive me crazy.    
   
"Shit." I growled at myself in the mirror. I finally just used some hair gel I found in the back of a drawer to glue the wayward hairs down. Daphne was supposed to meet me at the diner and we were going to, hell I didn't know where to just hang out. She loved walking Liberty Avenue. I felt the same way; it was still a new adventure for me and I liked sharing it with her. I even had a few dollars in my pocket. Brian never let me go around completely broke. I hadn't wanted to take the money the first time he offered it to me but he had just told me I was being a stupid little twat. Where else was I going to get a dollar "to buy a fucking drink?" Since then there was a ten or a twenty laying with my wallet every morning. He never asked if I spent the money or if I needed more. He just gave it to me. I had nearly a hundred dollars. Mom and dad had never given me money without constant nagging on my part. I was going to shop for some new shirts today. My mom hadn't brought very many clothes for me, even though my closet at home was full of them. Wearing the same stuff to Babylon repeatedly just plain sucked. I had discovered the hard way that even though Brian was unbelievably generous with his money, that generosity did not extend to his wardrobe. I winced remembering how much trouble I had been in for wearing his shirt and I hadn't even left the loft. Christ what was the big deal? It wasn't like he didn't have like fifty other black shirts. Well, that was one lesson I learned quickly. Brian's stuff was his and I wasn't likely to ever forget it.   
   
I dug through the drawer he had given me to keep my stuff in, looking for the shirt I wanted to wear. It wasn't there. Fuck. I stood up and glanced around the bedroom. I couldn't think of anywhere else to look for the thing, it just wasn't here, which didn't make any sense. I tried to remember if I had lost it at Babylon but I was pretty sure that I hadn't. There wasn't anything really special about it. It was just a white nylon shirt with cap sleeves that fit tight and was almost sheer. Two different times Brian had fucked me instead of going out when I had worn it. I guess it was stupid to notice stuff like that, but it was my favorite shirt. I glanced at the clock, fuck. I was supposed to meet Daph ten minutes ago. I grabbed a t-shirt off the bed and pulled it on as I rushed through the apartment. I grabbed my wallet off the bar and stuffed the …I came to a dead stop…fifty. He had left a fifty dollar bill on the bar with my wallet, that had to be a mistake, he couldn't mean…a small scrap of paper drifted to the floor and I leaned to pick it up. "Buy some fucking clothes." It said in Brian's familiar scrawl. I looked back at the money in my hand and realized it was not just one fifty but three of them folded loosely together. I hesitated to put the money into my wallet. It was a lot of damn money and I was having trouble understanding what this meant.  
   
"It doesn't mean any fucking thing." I could almost hear Brian's voice in my mind, "You need clothes so buy some fucking clothes. Christ knows you have enough goddamn underwear." He would never, never in a million years admit that this meant anything but I stared at the scrap of paper in my hand for a long time. Finally I folded it and tucked it carefully behind the learner's permit in my wallet. That was the closest thing to a love note I had ever gotten from him, I couldn't wait to show Daphne. I grabbed my jacket and ran out the door. I barely remembered to stop and turn on the alarm system. Christ one day I was going to forget and there would be fucking hell to pay then. Not today, today I was free with nearly three hundred dollars to spend on clothes. And there wouldn't be any one looking over my shoulder to mutter or nag about stuff being too small or looking a little too…gay. I laughed out loud at the thought. My mom really did try but damn! I wondered if Emmett was working today. We could go to the boutique where he worked first. I wanted to buy something hot, something so goddamn hot that Brian had to fuck me no matter what else he intended to do tonight.   
   
Daphne was at the diner waiting when I got there and totally pissed off at me for being so late. But a huddled conversation with her explaining the money and the note brought her back around to my side. When we waved at Deb and left the diner, Daph seemed as eager as I was to get started. Emmett was at work and he was really happy to help me shop. It was hard to turn back some of his wilder ideas but I was already getting a sense of my own style and he didn't push too hard for the purple velvet pants. Between the three of us I managed to fill up several shopping bags with new clothes. Emmett had snuck in his ten percent employee discount "It's why I work here honey." He stage whispered to me and then offered to keep my bags and drop them by the loft later.   
   
"Teddy is going to pick me up when I get off and we'll drop them by the loft, he won't mind. It's way too much for you to carry all those blocks." I hesitated because I wasn't as sure as Emmett that "Teddy" wouldn't mind but he was insistent and Daphne wanted to walk past the clubs. So we left the bags there and headed down the street towards more interesting things. I tried to tell her the clubs weren't nearly as much fun during the day. She insisted that she had heard that "Liberty Avenue never sleeps" and she wanted to see for herself. I started to tell her that not sleeping and being interesting were two different things but I didn't have anything else to do so I shrugged and we headed back out. Emmett waved and blew kisses, He really is the biggest queen.   
   
"He is so sweet!" Daphne exclaimed as we walked towards the grungier side of Liberty Avenue. There would be drunks in the alleys and hustlers on the corners; it all seemed so much dirtier in the light of day than it did at night when the grunge was hidden in darkness and the florescent signs painted the street in color.  She was right about that, Emmett was sweet, there was just no other word for him. He was turning out to be a good friend too, though I suspected that he might befriend anyone he saw loving Brian. Daphne and I were alone in a crowd as we walked along, the sidewalks were not packed but there were plenty of people out enjoying the mild day. Lesbians with strollers and queers with each other. Daphne couldn't seem to turn her head fast enough to see everything.  
   
"Stop staring." I finally told her.   
   
"But Justin they were…" she hissed at me in a stage whisper, glancing over her shoulder trying to get another look down the alley we had just passed where some guy had been on his knees sucking somebody off. I remembered the many times I had been on my knees in front of Brian in the backroom at Babylon, not a public alley but there was nothing private about it either. I felt my cock threaten to rise to the occasion and switched my mental picture to one of my mom railing on me.   
   
"You wouldn't understand." I told her, "Just come on and stop staring at everything." Without warning the sound of several sirens split the air and I jumped back from the curb, pulling Daphne with me. Sirens around here were never good news. I identified by their unique sounds the police and an ambulance as easily as if I could see them. They sounded fairly close. I was proven right when we rounded a corner and ran into the backs of a crowd, the lights from a police car visibly flashing not far from us.   
   
"What is it?" Daphne demanded as we stood on tiptoe trying to see what was happening.  
   
"Dead guy in the baths." An anonymous voice said and I realized that we were only about a half a block or so from the entrance. My heart seized with sudden panic. Brian had been going to the baths today, it had been the only part of his plans that he had mentioned to me. I tried to laugh it off, I was being a fucking pussy. Nothing had happened to Brian, he would never allow it. Pussy or not I could not stop thinking about the fact that the last dead guy in this part of town had been left on our doorstep.   
   
"I've got to see." I told Daphne and grabbing her hand tried to push my way through the growing crowd. The only thing I managed was to get cussed out in two different languages. My panic was showing.  
   
"It's not Brian, Justin." Daphne made an effort to reassure me, correctly identifying the source of my panic. I tried to pass a grimace off as a smile but her expression said that I had failed totally. I didn't care. I had to find out what was going on. Even the cars were stopped in the street. I spotted a deserted clunker sitting a little ways up from where we were.  
   
"Come on." I commanded and forced our away towards it. Going at an angle proved to be a little easier and when we got there I ignored her protests and boosted her to the roof. Nobody started screaming for us to get off his fucking car so I pulled myself up beside her and stood up. From there I could see over everyone's heads and had a fairly clear view of the door of the baths just as the police went in. I was holding Daphne's hand so hard I had to be nearly crushing it but she didn't say anything, just held on with me. Just when I thought I was going to throw up from the tension a couple cops finally appeared followed by the EMT's pushing a gurney. A grim black bag with a zipper running up the middle from top to bottom lay on the gurney. A hush fell over the crowd as we all stared, a touch of my own mortality brushed its way down my backbone giving me chills as I looked at that bag. The knot in my stomach tightened and I swallowed convulsively. The police were tightlipped; whatever was in that bag was bad business even for a place as rough as Liberty Avenue could be. Suddenly a familiar voice broke the silence that had fallen over the crowd at the sight of the body bag.  
   
"Wait!" the voice ordered and I couldn't do anything but stare as Brian broke through the crowd. The cops came to a reluctant halt and watched him warily. Behind them, unnoticed for the moment, the gurney rolled to a halt. What the fuck was he doing? The hush that had fallen over the crowd suddenly evaporated and it seemed that everyone began talking at once. They demanded to know what was happening and who was in that bag, but it was Brain who held the cop's attention."Wait." He demanded again though I could barely hear him over the renewed noise of the crowd. I couldn't make out anything at all about what he was demanding. The cop he was talking to shook his head but Brian was pissed off and taller than the cop he was chewing on. He jabbed the cop in the chest taking no notice when the cop's hand strayed to his gun butt. While it was clear to anyone watching that these officers had had just about enough, Brian was oblivious and his voice rose. "Maybe one of us knows…" the crowd drowned him out again but what I had heard and his gesture towards the body made it clear that he was tying to force the police to open that bag.   
   
My blood ran cold at the thought though I didn't know why. It wasn't like I hadn't seen a dead guy before. I must have made some sound cause the look Daphne threw at me was worried. I ignored her, intent on trying to figure out what Brian thought he was doing, besides making a very good attempt at getting himself arrested. The second cop joined the first but they couldn't move the gurney because Brian was in front of it and he was not budging. The second cop was almost as tall as he was but Brian didn't even blink at being confronted by two armed men, he just enlarged his tirade to include them both. I expected one of them to pull his gun at any second. Instead, unexpectedly, the cops exchanged a glance and one shrugged. It was pretty obvious that they had decided to open the bag. The noise of the crowd cut off as abruptly as it had begun when the shorter cop motioned for the EMT to let Brian see.   
   
I don't think I remember anything ever sounding as loud as that zipper did. Blond hair was the first thing discernable. "FUCK." Brian exclaimed and shoved the EMT aside forcefully. Before any of the officials could react he had unzipped the bag down past the groin. The face was young surrounded by a mop of blonde hair, too blond, the roots were almost black. There was a flash of orange at his groin and then the police had hauled Brian away from the gurney and the EMT's zipped it as quickly as it had been open. It lay still and ominous on the gurney once again, but the short seconds of revelation had been enough. I had seen the disjointed way the head met the shoulders. It was another decapitation. My stomach churned again. There was something really bad going on. This time the police were pissed and yelling at Brian. He was yelling back not about to back down. Christ he really was going to get himself arrested. I saw Michael on the other side of the crowd trying to fight his way towards Brian, David was with him attempting unsuccessfully to help clear the way for his partner. The crowd wasn't budging.  
   
"Stay here!" I yelled at Daphne and dashed down the windshield and off the hood of the car. This time when I pushed through the crowd I met little resistance. I reached Brian much faster than I thought I could. There had been no forethought about what I would do when I got to him and before I could even consider a course of action, I had slipped between he and the cop in one brilliantly stupid move. I saw the cops reaching for me out of the corner of my eye, but Brian's hands found me first. They fisted in my jacket and pulled me to him, his face pressed into my hair.  
   
"What the fuck were you doing?" I gasped. He didn't answer but he stopped yelling at the police.   
   
"It's his son." One of them commented naively. I thought inanely to myself that Brian was going to really get pissed off if people kept thinking he was old enough to be my father. I couldn't see what was happening but the cops didn't speak to Brian again, they moved the crowd and I felt the gurney brush against us as it rolled past. Believing it was concern for me that had caused him to act so rashly, the cops were content to let the whole matter just drop. There was enough trouble for them zipped up in that bag, they didn't need any more. We stood there while the crowd started to disperse. His hands holding tight to the lapel of my jacket and his face in my hair. My hands were laying on his arms and his biceps were bunched into tight knots. I didn't understand what had just happened. Brian was rash and had a crappy temper, but it wasn't like him to do something so potentially self-destructive. I thought he trembled but his body tensed instantly so I couldn't be sure. I wished that we were alone in the loft; where we could just fuck and whatever this was would go away.   
   
"Christ Brian, are you out of your goddamn mind?" An all too familiar voice said almost at  my elbow. The Mikey patrol had arrived. The tension did not go out of Brian's arms, but he released my jacket smoothing it out before he lifted his face to meet Michael's eyes. I tucked myself under his arm and for a moment he let me. He draped his arm over my shoulders and I wrapped mine around his slim waist. For just an instant we stood that way, facing Michael together, the way it only happened in my dreams and I watched as whatever the man had been going to say was driven from his mind by the sight of us. Michael glanced back at the entrance to the baths. "Do you take him fucking everywhere?" he accused. Brian pushed me away from him but his eyes were locked with mine and there was something harbored there within their expressive depths that I was almost convinced was fear but that was just stupid. What did Brian have to be afraid of?   
   
"Get Daphne." Was all he said to me. I didn't question how he knew that I was with Daphne. His face forbade any questions. When I turned in the direction I had come from I could see her sliding off the top of the car and I sprinted towards her. The crowd was mostly gone now, the show over. Behind me I heard Brian say, "He's not with me. And what the fuck are you and the good Doctor doing down here this time of the day anyway?" I didn't hear what Michael answered. My mind was spinning trying to fit together everything that had just happened. It made a picture but the picture didn't make very much sense. I felt like I had two different puzzles in my head. One made up of angles and the other curves and no matter how I tried to make them fit, they wouldn't. I couldn't even get a decent abstract out of them. That thought made me laugh just as I was reaching Daphne.   
   
"All better?" she asked with a glance towards Brian but it was my face she scrutinized looking for signs of trauma. She could be worse than my mother sometimes. I shrugged.  
   
"Who knows. The picture in my head is broken and the pieces won't fit back together." I told her and Daphne rolled her eyes. I had tried to explain before how often life was like a huge painting for me. The color, the sounds, every nuance creating a canvas that could never be recreated by any artist's brush or pencil, though I tried often enough. She didn't really get it but at least when I made a crack about it she understood what I meant. I wondered if musicians saw the world in music…or, and my next thought made me laugh out loud simply because of how nicely it seemed to prove my theory,  if Ad Execs saw the world in terms of money…Daphne looked relieved that I had gotten over my panic and demanded that I explain what was so funny. So when we got back to the others I was deep in an explanation of pictures and music and money and the puzzle that wouldn't go together. She was laughing and for some reason that made me feel good. I guess even  gay guys liked for girls to think they're funny. I had seen Brian goading Lindsay often enough to believe this theory was also rooted in fact. I was in the middle of saying something completely stupid when I felt Brian looking at me. I turned to meet his eyes and his bemused smile did a hell of a lot more than make me feel good. If there was anyone in this world I wanted to make smile it was Brian Kinney. Daphne was beaming. She adored for Brian to give any sign that he cared for me. Sometimes I thought she watched more diligently for small signs that it was true than I did.   
   
"What the fuck are you talking about?" he asked amusement coloring his voice. He seemed to have recovered from his strange behavior completely. The idea of trying to explain to Brian what I had been so easily telling Daphne made my cheeks hot and that did make him laugh. He always laughed at me when I blushed. "Like a goddamn virgin," he taunted and reached out to trace my cheekbone with the pad of his thumb.    
   
"I thought we were going to the diner." Michael broke in. How in the hell had I forgotten he was here even for a second? It seemed he had radar for the exact moments that I might finally be making some inroads with Brian and he made sure that the blockades went up fast. Brian's hand fell away and he turned to face his friend. The loss of Brian's touch and the dizzying heat it never failed to produce in me made me aware of something else and a cold chill worked its way down my spine. Puzzled I glanced around only to find David's eyes fixed on me and the chill made its way down my spine again. Christ he was creepy. His bland face registered no real emotion that I could read. His eyes seemed cold, closed…shuttered. If I painted him it would be in black with highlights of angry red…or else in a chill ice blue. Dead. Cold. The picture in my mind always distorted when he was there. I stared at him, caught in his gaze as if I had been hypnotized and I was unable to look away. My heart raced and I couldn't stop myself from reaching for Brian's hand. Something he never allowed. Brian did not hold hands. That thought surfaced just as my fingers brushed his. His strong fingers enveloped mine and he drew me back to his side. 

"Justin?" he questioned though he was hardly paying attention to me. I still couldn't look away from David.   
   
"He seems to be suffering a delayed reaction." David said in his bland reasonable voice. It played on my nerves like fingernails on a chalkboard. I didn't understand why no one else could feel it. He was fucking creepy. How the hell could Michael be sleeping with this freak? "Perhaps, he needs to sleep. I could take him to the loft if you would like, that would give you and Michael a chance to visit. Justin and I could…get to know each other."  What the fuck was he talking about? I didn't want to get to know him and I wasn't having a delayed reaction. Fuck, if you had seen one headless dead guy what was one more? I wondered if anyone besides me realized that this stiff had also been separated from his head. Well, maybe it was weirding me out a little, but I was not weirded out enough to go anywhere alone with this freak. I don't care what any of them said, something was seriously wrong with this guy. Michael was frowning at us like I was after his freaky doctor, not damned likely.  
   
"No." I said in reply to the unexpected offer the same time Brian turned his full attention to us and said, "no." I turned to face him and saw that his frown had replaced his grin as his eyes searched my face. He had not forgotten what I told him about David that night at Babylon. Brian rarely forgot anything I told him…well once he had figured out my name, the asshole. "Daph's car is at the Diner. I can't just leave her." I explained. I sure as hell couldn't say 'I'm not going anywhere with you, freak.'   
   
"Fine whatever." Michael said shrugging the incident off and tugging Brian's arm, "lets go."  Maybe Michael and Brian missed the look that crossed David's face when Michael touched Brian, but I didn't and it was easy to see there was more than dislike in the Doctor's heart for Michael's flame; something much darker. The darkness flickered and was gone, the chill returned to his eyes and I turned back to Brian before I was caught staring. I had a feeling that what I had just witnessed was not something others were ever allowed to see. At that moment a figure appeared in my peripheral vision. A broad shouldered hunk with dark hair who walked with a confident swagger. Brian's head turned to follow him and I saw their eyes meet. Fuck. His eyes raked over the hard body once and then again, he realized he was holding my hand and let go.   
   
"Sorry Mikey." He said turning to follow the stranger, "unfinished business." They couldn't go to the baths, of course, that was closed for the rest of today and might be for several days as the police came and went. I was pretty sure this investigation would not go as quickly as the one at the loft, and would probably bring attention back to that one. Two decapitations? What could that be but a serial killer? Cutting off someone's head was not the most convenient way of committing a murder. Christ talk about premeditation. The closing of the baths did not stop Brian. He pinched my cheek and kissed Daphne's. "See you later kids." He mocked and followed behind his latest target before the man could disappear into the crowds. Christ, that guy could be the killer…yeah and what was he going to do take Brian into the alley and chop his head off? Get a fucking grip Taylor. Michael and his doctor suffered a sudden change in plans. God a guy could almost see why that man hated Brian like he did. I wasn't sorry to see them go. That left Daph and I to make our way back to the Diner the same way we had left it, alone.   
   
When we got there Deb greeted us enthusiastically. She directed us to a booth and brought us sodas.  
   
"Now what'll it be?" she asked pulling out her pad and licking the end of her pencil, "On the house special?" I shook my head and pulled a wad of bills from my pocket.  
   
"No, Brian's buying today."  I told her and Daphne laughed as I piled the rest of the money in the middle of the table, "Bring the lady whatever she wants."  Daphne ordered a tuna melt but I stuck with burger and fries. Deb went to turn in the order and then came back to the table, business was light today. She had time to talk.   
   
"I heard they found another body." She commented after telling Daph to "scooch" over and sitting down with us. I nodded and Daphne looked somber. "The two of you stay away from those clubs."   
   
"Too late." I replied, "We were there." Deb's face was incredulous.  
   
"Christ Justin, again?" she demanded and seemed to be at a loss for words. That was something I had never seen before. I probably would have said that it was impossible. She looked so upset that I hurried to reassure her.  
   
"Deb, I didn't find him, But we were near the baths when they brought him out." I told her, "Daph and I climbed up on a car so we could see. The cops were there and the EMT's. I don't know who found him or what happened." I wanted to make light of it and to pretend I didn't think that it had anything to do with what had happened to me the other day, but the knowledge that another gay blond had been decapitated kept me from saying anything else.  
   
"It was another blond." Daphne said, my lapse of concentration gave her the chance to take over telling what had happened. Deb looked at me sharply. She remembered how that other corpse had disturbed me, Christ it had looked like me. This was different, why did everyone think I was going to be upset?  
   
"They didn't fucking cover him up?" She demanded indignantly, "Is it because he's gay? They just took him out of there with no respect at all…" she was about to get lost in her favorite tirade.   
   
"No, he was in one of those bags." Daphne said hastily and paused; I realized she was building her story purposefully. She loved to tell stories almost as much as I loved to draw. She was very good at it. I watched Debbie frown as she tried to figure out how we had seen a dead body in a closed bag. Daphne let her stew in it for just a second before she continued.  
   
"Brian made them open it," Daphne said and there was a light of excitement in her eyes that seemed at odds with what she was talking about.  Her eyes met mine as if she had some monumental thing to reveal. "He thought Justin was in there. He yelled at the cops till they opened the bag and let him see." Her words stunned me. I had been there. I had seen what she had but translating Brian's tirade into concern for me was a leap I wasn't sure I was ready to make. It was much safer for me to half way believe that he didn't give a shit. He kept saying so and even if I didn't completely believe him it could still turn out to be true. He loves me. I believed that. I was sure of it…I really was but that didn't mean he had to keep loving me. Anything could happen, being close to Brian was so complicated. There was one thing I was pretty sure about and that was that if I ever got complacent, it would be the end.  
   
Had Brian made that scene today because of me? Had his actions been rooted in some concern about me? Concern. It was safe to admit that he might not have wanted me to be in that bag. It wasn't safe to imagine why his imagination might have put me there. Her words made me feel like the world had tilted and I couldn't find my footing. The idea that Brian's panic had been caused by feelings he harbored for me was a dream come true. It made the angles of the puzzle curve and fit together. They fit beautifully. They fit into a picture I could never paint. They fit into an ideal I did not dare allow myself to believe.   
   
I remembered the way his hands fisted in my coat and the feel of his breath in my hair.   
   
I remembered how he trembled under my touch and the voice of the officer saying that I was his son.   
   
I remembered the way he had wrapped his arm around my shoulders and the way he had taken my hand…  
   
I remembered his tone when he had said my name.   
   
I remembered that he was Brian. I remembered this was life and not a fairy tale. There weren't going to be any sudden declarations of love…no happily ever after. There would be only Brian if I didn't get stupid.  
   
The bell dinged suddenly breaking into my thoughts and signaling that our lunch was ready. I looked up from where I had been staring at the table to meet first Daph's eyes and then Deb's.  
   
"That is the stupidest damn thing I ever heard." I told Daphne bluntly, "Whatever the fuck was wrong with Brian today it didn't have anything to do with me." His hands on my jacket. His breath in my hair. and now his voice in my mind, the reality of Brian 'it doesn't mean any fucking thing.' It was just like the money, the clothes, the rides to school. It doesn't mean anything. It's just fucking.  
   
"And you might as well quit trying to make something of it cause it doesn't mean a fucking thing." I said stubbornly and turned back to Deb…  "Are you gonna get our lunch?" I demanded my voice tight. The look on her face was one of sympathy. I wasn't the first boy she had watched hopelessly loving Brian.  
   
"Sure Sunshine" she told me gently and patted my cheek, "sure I am." She moved away and I sat staring at her back. I wasn't Michael. I wanted to scream it at her. What happened to him was not going to happen to me. I could make Brian love me. I could. Somehow.  
   
TBC  
Comments Valued


	12. Chapter 11

  
Author's notes: I apologize for the long delay. Real life got the best of me for a while. I hope that anyone who was reading along forgives me and is ready to take up this story once again :).   


* * *

  
I slowly eased my cock out of Justin's tight ass. Just seconds ago his body had been tense and active under mine as he worked with me towards our mutual satisfaction. Now he was laid out as limp as a wet rag and it made me chuckle. He still had a pillow wrapped in his arms and his face was buried in the depths of it. He groaned and shuddered when I slipped from him and grumbled at my amusement. I leaned forward and nuzzled the base of his neck, licking a path along the curve of his ear as I pulled off the condom and reached across the bed to drop it in the trash. Even sweaty and musky from sex he still smelled compelling and his pale skin was like silk under my touch. I glanced at the clock. Fuck, we had to leave in fifteen minutes. I hadn't awakened with the intentions of fucking him but as I had slowly surfaced from the hazy depths of my dreams, which had not been all that fucking great, he was snuggled back against me. His goddamn tight little ass pressed against my raging hard on. My fingers had already been coated with lube and deep inside that tempting ass before he was completely awake. There had been no protest on his part, only eager submission and so I had fucked him awake, good fucking morning you might say. Now, sated and relaxed from my own orgasm I didn't feel like getting up to face another damn day. Christ, last weekend had been for shit and I had little hope this week was going to get any better. I was living with the dread that a can of yellow 'paint' would suddenly show up somewhere inside the loft and the idea ate at me almost constantly. I had dumped everything that was in the refrigerator after I found the first can. Justin had been hurt and infuriated in turn. I told him to shut up it was my fucking loft and if I wanted the refrigerator empty then he could damn well live with it.  
  
Christ, a fucking killer had been in here. He had come freely into my home and he had been in here with Justin...had touched him. It tied my stomach in fucking knots to think about the hands that had brutally murdered some guy sifting through the satin of Justin's hair. I had been so shaken by my discovery of the intrusion that it was not until later that afternoon that it occurred to me that there might be another danger, lurking in the depths of the refrigerator and while I was sure that poison was not the crazy bastard's weapon of choice; I wasn't going to find out the hard way that he didn't mind leaving a deadly little calling card behind and so into the trash it all went, including that damn lemon pie and that had really pissed me off. I felt my paranoia had been justified when he had killed again. Not by poison true but another young blond queer was minus his goddamn head. It had been revealed by the press that he hadn't really been a blonde. Well, he was now. The most popular theory being bandied about by the public was that the killer had fucking dyed the guy's hair after he was dead. They were taking bets on why he might have done it but no one really had any clue. I had been hard put to maintain my façade of indifference when I heard about it but the horror and confusion of the situation did not end there. We had gathered at Woody's Saturday night rehashing the day and engaging in idle gossip about the idea that there could be a serial killer actually stalking Liberty Avenue. Justin was uncharacteristically quiet and my usual enthusiasm for shocking everyone with my blasé attitude was sadly lacking. When the news came on the entire bar fell silent and everyone gathered to find out what bits of information they were gong to release this time. The answer was pictures. The pictures that flashed across the screen of the TV in the darkened bar were of a 20 something with dark hair and brooding eyes but even under that unruly mop of dark hair there was something eerily familiar about the composition of his face, the contour of his lips the way he held his head; Emmett had turned from the screen to look at Justin.  
  
"Oh my god, Justin…he looks like you!" The queen exclaimed shocked by the realization of how much the pictures looked like Justin and despite the dark coloring the resemblance was uncanny. Of course the one thing about the first corpse that even the police didn't know was his similarity, however contrived, to Justin. At that moment the kid looked like he might fucking puke and I felt like if he did I might goddamn well join him. Christ what a fucking mess. I had seen the yellow at the guy's groin when I had unzipped the bag. First red cock and now a yellow one, and painted cocks were something the police were keeping mum about; so I didn't even have the half baked suppositions of the media to help me try to guess what it meant. My imagination had been running riot ever since; but now it had been several days and still there had been no sign that the killer retained any interest in Justin and I - nothing beyond the likeness of the dead guy to the teen. I reminded myself that the paint can had not been found for nearly a week but as time passed I had slowly begun to hope that any previous interest in us had been instigated by the fact we had discovered the body and now it would be time to torment someone new.  
  
Justin shifted a little still partially covered by my body and groaned softly. He was sore. I grinned and feathered kisses along his shoulder as my hand slid down his rib cage. Of course he was sore, I knew what the fuck I was doing. He would not be sore enough to really bother him, just enough for the twinges to remind him who he fucking belonged to. That thought froze my lips on his skin. Where the fuck had that come from? I had wondered a couple times recently if I was losing my mind and now I had proof that I was completely off the goddamn deep end. The fucking little twat did not belong to me. I jerked away from him like I had been scalded.  
  
"Get the fuck up." I told him abruptly my voice rough, " you've got fifteen minutes to get ready." There was no movement on his side of the bed as he tried to reason through what had just happened. I reached for a cigarette but I didn't turn to face him. I knew the reproach that would be in his eyes. Fuck that. He wasn't mine, any more than I belonged to him; he belonged only to his fucking self. Christ. His weight left the bed and shortly after that I heard the shower start. Despite my annoyance the sound induced a vision of him sleek and wet under the spray of water; after a second or two I ground out the cigarette. If I got ready now, I could go straight to the office after I dropped him off. Before the thought was fully formed I was closing the shower door behind me. Justin turned to face me his hands in lost in the thick lather covering his head. He looked surprised.  
  
"I'm not going to work smelling like your goddamn cum." I told him and wiped the hand I had used to jerk him off down the front of his chest. Our eyes followed the path of my touch and watched his cock grew hard. "Fucking kid." I grumbled mockingly licking my lips as I met his eyes again. His eyes brightened with anticipation and water washed over him. It slid over his sleek muscles and beaded random paths across his skin. His hands were still in his hair when I reached up and curled a hand around the back of his neck pulling him to me. He brought his body fully against me without protest. I caught his gasp in my kiss when his cock pressed against my skin. It was already a throbbing burning brand between us despite the fact he had shot off less than five minutes ago. 'The trials of fucking youth.' I thought to myself as I backed him out of the hot spray and against the wall of the shower. He tried to turn in my arms but I stopped him firmly. Christ, who the fuck did this kid think I was? One thing I wasn't, was ready to fuck him again so soon. I wasn't the goddamn 17 year old. I took his arms from where he had wrapped them around my neck and let my tongue begin to map the trail of water droplets that sprinkled his skin. I began with his ridiculous nipple ring, flipping it expertly with my tongue. He always made some fucking incredible sounds when I did that and so I did it again. His hands threaded through my damp hair and I lifted my head to look at him.  
  
His head was thrown back against the glass of the shower wall. The soapy water from his hair was running in his face forcing him to keep his eyes closed. He arched towards me reminding me of my purpose and my lips resumed their path down his body. Licking the water from the flat planes of his abs. I nipped his skin there. His body was taut with youth and not from strenuous exercise, the truth was Justin rarely saw the inside of a gym he was particularly lazy that way. And so rather than his body being corded with rock hard muscle he was softer, not fat or slack just…softer. I buried my face in the tender flesh of his belly for a moment. I enjoyed his body, maybe more than I could remember ever taking pleasure in anyone before, but that is all that it was, pleasure. I had seen the speculative looks being thrown my way not just by my fucking friends but others on the fringe of my acquaintance. They were watching and waiting, some of the assholes actually anticipating that they were going to see Brian Kinney fall at last. I was sorry to disappoint them but not in this goddamn life time. No matter what they thought or how many times I fucked him; just fucking is all it was…and I needed to find the damn kid somewhere else to stay before he started to believe the rumors, but not just now. I licked the head of his cock and swallowed it relishing the choked cry he gave and the way his fingers tightened in my hair  
  
It didn't take long, I deep-throated him a few times, sucking his cock like it was made of candy, it might have been the damn thing was sweet enough. I'd take Justin's cock over an all-day-sucker anytime…god knows the fucking thing would probably last just as long. Just minutes after I had sank to my knees in front of him he was quivering under my skillful touch and shooting his load down my throat, his hands fisted in my hair as his hips thrust forward reflexively. My name was the shuddering cry that fell from his perfect lips. I couldn't deny the satisfaction I got from how freely he used my name when we would fuck, I liked having him at my mercy. Hell, I just plain liked fucking him. I stood up and pulled him back into the spray, it had cooled slightly and I reached around him to adjust the temperature.  
  
"Christ Brian!" he yelped and jumped out of the water his skin already splotched and red from the sudden increase in temperature. Soap from his hair ran into his eyes and he was rubbing them with the back of his hand. Holy God he looked young doing that. Goddamn sensitive baby. I adjusted it again and tugged his hand; he came back into the water with me hesitantly. "Fuck that hurt." He grumbled. I turned his face up to the water helping him to rinse the soap out of his eyes and his hair.  
  
"You'll live." I told him and turned him around to wash his back. I ran the cloth down his spine to his round ass and as I soaped it considered my half erect dick. He was going to be late anyhow…what the fuck…I slipped a finger inside him.  
  
~*~  
  
I was in an evil mood when I arrived at the office. I growled for coffee when I walked past Cynthia's desk. Justin had been late to school and now I was late for work. When I had pulled up in front of the school to drop him off the kid had sat in the jeep eyeing the school building, the yard in front of it eerily devoid of movement.  
  
"I'm late." He muttered. Ok that had been a fucking news flash.  
  
"And?" I prompted him. He turned to look at me, his face was no longer flushed and blurry eyed with sex. It was very young and nearly scared. Christ what do they do to him in that goddamn place?  
  
"What if they call my Dad?" the true source of his fear surfaced and I felt my temper stir. Fuck the asshole that fathered this kid. I leaned over and breathed in his ear.  
  
"Then I'll have to spank you, sonny boy." When I sat up his cheeks were flushed and his fear seemed to have faded. He leaned over to grab his book bag from the floorboard. When he sat up he met my eyes again; I gave him a cocky grin. He smiled slightly but I could tell his worry that he would have to face his father was eating a whole in his gut. Fuck that. "Wait." I told him when he started to get out. I pulled my pen out of a pocket. "Give me some paper." His blue eyes bright with curiosity he dug a sheet out of his book bag that looked like it had been through WWI. I considered myself lucky this was a good sheet. I scribbled something on it and handed it to him. He looked down at it and finally I got a laugh out of him.  
  
"Justin is late because I brought him late. I was in a very tight spot this morning and couldn't get out of it in time to bring him earlier. Brian Kinney."  
  
He stuck his tongue out at me, sassy piece of baggage that he is and got out of the jeep. He slung his books over his shoulder and shoved his note in his pocket. He was turning away when I called his name. He turned back to face me. His expression bleak.  
  
"If they call your goddamn father, call me." I told him abruptly and all the tension drained out of his face. I don't know why the fuck I said that but it was almost worth it to see him return to himself. I remembered the way that bastard had treated Justin and the times his temper had driven him to attack me. No, the boy didn't need to face that with no one in his corner.  
  
"Really?" he asked his voice incredulous.  
  
"I don't say things I don't fucking mean. Go to school you're late." I left him standing on the curb staring after me but I had no doubt that he went inside. He was probably hoping they would call his damn father.  
  
By the time Cynthia came in with the coffee I had my current account spread out over my desk. She set the cup down and glanced at what I was frowning at, tires…black ugly tires, it had not been that long ago I had lost a tire account. Not for lack of ideas but because I wouldn't fuck a middle aged bastard who cared more about getting his dick sucked than his family. Now here I sat staring at another group of fucking tires. Christ this job sucked sometimes. I grunted thanks at her and she smiled brightly at me, ignoring my glower she headed for the door.  
  
"If Justin calls put him through." I told her shortly without looking up. I didn't need to see her to know she had that look.  
  
"Sure boss." She told me a bit too casually. Fucking women. I sat back and lit a cigarette. Smoking and sipping at the nearly scalding coffee I stared at the tires. How do you sell something that looked just like every other goddamn one on the market? I consider the ideas I had presented to the other company but they had gone with a slightly butchered version of my presentation when they had chosen a firm. That had royally pissed me off but there was little I could do. Still the current client would not be likely to take kindly to a copy cat idea even if the cat I was copying was myself. I flipped through the pictures, in my mind I stacked and unstacked them . I stood them on edge, I balanced them on a flag pole and rolled them with and without a car. I stacked them again and this time Justin popped out naked from the center, Fuck. I reached in my drawer for a pencil maybe I could write something out. I needed to do something to focus my thoughts. Cloth met my touch instead of the smooth wood of a pencil and I was baffled for a moment but then I remembered dropping Justin's underwear in there. It had gotten shuffled back to the front somehow. I grinned and pulled the briefs out.  
  
My hand had not cleared the drawer completely when I caught my first sight of them. My hand fisted in the cotton material and I felt like I had been kicked in the chest. I stared at the once white underwear unable to breathe; no longer the pristine white they had once been, they were now stained with bright yellow paint and what was very clearly blood. I choked back a yell, dropped them back into the drawer and slammed it shut. I ran my hands through my hair as I tried to catch my breath. What the fuck was going on? And on the heels of that thought, call Justin. I fumbled the phone out of my pocket and had dialed him before I could stop myself. He answered immediately and the constriction around my chest eased slightly. I could hear the noise of the school in the background.  
  
"Brian," he said though he didn't sound as surprised as the last time. He sounded distracted. "The weirdest shit just happened." My hand tightened on the phone after what I just found hearing that weird shit had happened to him was not something I wanted to hear. I managed to curb my impatience and let him tell me what had happened. "I got in my locker for my books and there was this box in there. Hair dye." My stomach churned, Christ maybe I was going to puke.  
  
"Don't you keep it locked? How the fuck could he have put it in there?" I demanded. A box of hair dye was too damn close to a can of paint for me. I had never been so completely out of control of anything in my life as I was this situation. I didn't like the panic fluttering at the edge of my reason and I was totally pissed off that someone was fucking with us like this. I realized too late that I sounded like I knew who had done it but he was too distracted to notice the fucking slip. I was going to have to be lot more goddamn careful than that if I didn't want to end up with a freaked out twink on my hands.  
  
"Fuck Brian. How do I know? It was locked but anyone could get these locks open if they wanted to. The weirdest thing was that there wasn't any dye in it, just a note." I heard him fumbling with something and then away from the phone he muttered, "it's Brian. I'm telling him about this weird assed note I got. No, I'm not going to the principal; it's nothing. Like they give a fuck about me anyhow." I could feel my tension winding tighter and it was all I could do not to scream at him to just tell me what the damn note said. "I can't find it, never mind it said something like 'one so beautiful…needful of rest' and…um something about um sleeping…" I heard Daphne's voice in the background again barely distinguishable above the hallway noise. "Yea that was it…soon you must sleep…for there are your dreams.' Probably that damn Hobbs but why would he do something freaky like this? He usually just slams me into the lockers or something." I could tell that Justin wasn't really worried about it; as far as he was concerned it was a silly school prank easily tossed into the trash and forgotten.  
  
"What color was the hair dye?" I asked him trying to make my voice as casual as I could manage.  
  
"That was the other fucked up thing. Blonde. Like I fucking dye my hair or some shit. Asshole." He was really annoyed by the idea that someone thought he was not a natural blond. I could assure them that he was indeed completely natural from head to cock. Christ what fucking difference did that make?  
  
"Where's the box?" I demanded. He hesitated sensing for the first time that something was not quite right with me.  
  
"I thought it was in my pack but I must have tossed it, it's gone. That's weird though cause I wanted to show it to you when I got home." I heard more poking around, and he asked Daphne if she had it. "No," I heard the shrug in his voice, "It's not here. I don't know where I dropped it at. Is something wrong? Why'd you call…" a bell blared in the phone and I jerked it away from me ear. When I replaced it he was still talking, "Christ I have to go to class. I'll talk to you later Brian. bye." Dead air. I stared at the damn phone. I could feel my temper rising in direct proportion to my fear. Sleep soon…fuck. That was almost a direct threat. I stood up unable to remain seated at my desk and moved agitatedly around the office. I rubbed my fingers through my hair and stared out at the hallway through the blinds in my window. I had to get him out of my fucking loft. No more jerking around, it was past time for him to go and I felt like it was becoming increasingly unsafe for him to remain anywhere near me. If he hadn't lost the note and the box maybe I would call the police this time, but there was still my fear they would try to blame him. Justin who was so often alone in my loft and so was very likely without an alibi. There was also my dead certainty they would not listen to me at all. I wouldn't call the police but I did know a place I could take him that he would be safe. It was time for my boy to go back home. I buzzed Cynthia "Yes boss?" her competent voice answered at once.  
  
"I remembered a business meeting. I'll be gone the rest of the afternoon." I shoved the papers on my desk into a file, Christ I seemed to ditch work more than I stayed here. That wouldn't matter as long as I got the damn copy right. I shoved the underwear into my pocket and pulled on my jacket, I was going to beard the lion in his den.  
  
~*~  
  
When I arrived at the state of the art office complex it took only minutes to locate the one I was looking for. I smiled my most winning smile at the secretary behind the desk in the affluent reception area.  
  
"Is this Mr. Taylor's office?" I inquired hesitantly as if I didn't want to interrupt whatever important task she might be involved in. She smiled in return and reached for her appointment book.  
  
"Yes it is, and what is your name sir?" she asked pleasantly. I smiled sheepishly.  
  
"I don't have an appointment, you see I am a friend of Mr. Taylor's and I would like to surprise him. We haven't seen each other in a while." I tried to sound as convincing as I could but her friendly smile slipped.  
  
"I'm sorry, Mr. Taylor doesn't see anyone without an appointment." She told me and set her leather bound book to the side preparing to return to her typing.  
  
"I'm sure you can make an exception." I whispered leaning closer over her desk, I could be as charming as any breeder when I had to, "His son Justin has stayed with me upon occasion and since I was in the city, I thought I would stop by and surprise him." The bastard was going to be surprised alright but my invocation of Justin's name worked it's magic. Her suspicions laid to rest she positively beamed at me.  
  
"Well, to be honest Mr. Taylor is not busy at the moment. I think it will be ok for you to go back, Mr.?" She was reaching for her phone to buzz and announce me but I was already headed for the door, I met her eyes again for a moment and my tongue found my cheek.  
  
"Kinney," I told her, "Tell him Brian is here." When I opened the door to reveal the well appointed office, Taylor was telling his secretary that he absolutely wouldn't talk to me. His eyes met mine and a cold hatred flared in his. I shrugged it off, whatever he felt for me was small compared to the contempt I felt for his sorry goddamned ass.  
  
"Never mind." He snapped into the receiver and hung up. "What do you…" but I wasn't about to give him the upper hand by letting him either begin or control this meeting.  
  
"You don't mind if I sit do you?" I asked plopping down in one of the pair of leather chairs in front of his oak desk. I propped my feet on the edge of the desk and reached for a cigar, "or smoke." I let him fume as I lit the cigar, ah Cuban and very damn good. I blew a smoke ring and then another.  
  
"What in the hell are you doing here Kinney?" he demanded his face already starting to turn a very nice shade of red.  
  
"I've come to talk to you about your son." I told him bluntly. "it's time for him to go home."  
  
"Tired of him already? You goddamn gay bastard. You fucked him and now you want to throw him back . I knew this was going to happen. Well, you tell him he can come home when he's done with this nonsense and not a day before." He leaned over his desk towards me his eyes narrow with contempt, "Now get out before I call the cops and have your ass strung up for molesting a minor." I rubbed my fingers against my forehead and dropped his mostly unsmoked fifty dollar cigar into the crystal ashtray sitting prominently on the corner of his desk. My feet hit the floor and I leaned forward slowly.  
  
"You want to play hard ball Taylor? Well let me throw the first fucking pitch. You go ahead and call the goddamn cops and my first call won't be to my lawyer, it'll be to the fucking newspaper. Now that would make a pretty fucking headline don't you think? Prominent business man has son who takes it up the ass." I watched his face turn red and then nearly purple, the insufferable bastard, but the tainted underwear in my pocket weighted down my temper. This man might be the prick of the year but Justin would be safe at home.  
  
"Fuck you, Kinney." His voice was harsh but he didn't reach for the phone. I knew he wouldn't above all else no one could know about Justin, " I've made myself clear. When Justin is ready to stop playing at being a faggot he can come home. Until then he's on his own. He made his choice and he can live with it. I'll pay for his school until he graduates and his college if he can get his mind off his cock long enough to go. I will not support him in the debauchery with which he has chosen to live his life. He cannot come back to my house just because his playmate is tired of him. The way I see it if he gets a little cold and hungry that'll clear his mind up more quickly than anything else. No one asked you to be his keeper, Kinney. If he wants to be the big man on his own then let him but whatever you decide to do that goddamn boy will not step foot inside my house again until he admits that he is wrong and apologizes to myself and his mother." My vision went red and serial killers were forgotten. My intentions to reintegrate Justin with his family were now ash. Whatever else happened the boy would not be sent back into this.  
  
"You think if he gets hungry he'll come home?" I exclaimed in disbelief, no one was this fucking stupid, didn't this asshole watch the evening news? "You want me to put him in the street and let him take care of himself so that he'll get desperate enough to come crawling back to you? For your information gay boys don't crawl back home to their Daddies and beg forgiveness. They hustle the streets and turn tricks until one day they are HIV positive because they let someone fuck them bareback for the extra fifty dollars, and then they just keep hustling until they die from it. Either because there is no money for medicine or because there was no one to make them take it if they do manage to get it…or else they finally end up with a really bad trick and the next day they are found in an alley or a garbage can and then at least he won't ever be fucking hungry again." I breathed deeply trying to reign my temper in but failed spectacularly. The idea that this man was willing to throw Justin to the sharks of Liberty Avenue completely infuriated me. "I want you to understand something you goddamn asshole and it's the something you will have to come grips with if you ever hope to have a son again. Justin is gay. I didn't make him gay, you sure didn't fucking do it. For fuck's sake why would he want a guy like dear old dad, when dear old dad is such a prick? Justin is gay because he is. No matter what you do or say, no matter what methods you use to try and bend him to your will, your son will never be a fucking breeder out there knocking back beers with the boys and chasing pussy. He likes hard bodies and hard cock and there is nothing that you or I or he can do that will ever change that. Maybe you can make him deny it. Maybe with the right tactics you can lock him in the goddamn closet and push him into marriage with some blonde bimbo, but you can never make him stop wanting cock." The man was gasping like a beached fish.  
  
I had pushed him all the way to the end of his temper. His face was scarlet and I suspected that if we were anywhere besides his office he would have already attacked me. I wasn't completely convinced he wouldn't anyhow. He was on his feet and blustering on the other side of the desk like an enraged bull. The veins in his neck throbbed and his hands fisted at his sides.  
  
"It is none of your goddamn business how I discipline my son." He snapped, "Now you will remove yourself from the premises of this building or I will call security and have you forcibly removed.  
  
"What you do to your son became my goddamn business when you fucking gave him to me." I snarled as I planted my fists on the desk and leaned forward until we were nearly nose to nose, "You attacked me twice, you label me a child molester but when he left your house with me there was no outcry made then and there has been nothing since. The boy talks to his mother but his own fucking father has nothing to do with him. You could have called him back that night. You could have worked out an arrangement that all of you could have lived with but to preserve your own reputation because 'OH MY GOD! what would the Jonseys do if they found out that Justin is a HOMO' you let your son leave with a man you didn't even know. A man you knew was going to take him home and fuck him. Right now you would rather he was starving in the streets than accept him back. I have one thing to say to you Taylor. Fuck you." I shoved him by the shoulders so that he fell backwards into his chair, his eyes widened as if he expected me to come over the desk but I had enough of his bull shit. I turned and moved across the room to the door, my hand was on the knob when I turned back once more.  
  
"One other thing Mr. Taylor, you might not want to take bets on when that boy of yours will be crawling back to you, because as long as I have anything to say about it Justin will never be hungry or cold. He will never need a goddamn thing that you have to offer. I can teach him the one thing that every faggot has to learn and that is we don't need you fucking hetero's to make it. He is going to make a goddamn fine queer one day and you can bet your sorry fucking ass that I'll do everything in my power to see that it happens. Christ he's out at school, all your high and mighty friends already fucking know your dirty little secret. I guess they haven't said anything to you because they see the same thing I do; Justin doesn't need a boyfriend, you fuck him better than anyone else ever could." He came after me then but I stepped through the door and closed it. The secretary sat at her desk her eyes wide though she tried to pretend she was working when I made my grand exit. The door didn't open behind me and I wondered if I had given the bastard a stroke. I paused beside her desk briefly but she didn't meet my eyes it was clear she had heard every word.  
  
"Sorry about that." I told her glibly, "I had no idea he was still so pissed about Justin sucking my dick." I shrugged, "Some people really hold a grudge and it's such a shame, the boy is a natural. You might want to check on Pops pretty soon he may just explode in there." She still didn't look up though her face suffused with color. My temper simmered as I walked through the halls and back to the parking lot. I still didn't have a place for the damn kid to stay but hell would freeze over before I would send him back home.  
  
~*~  
  
"Brian!" Lindsay sounded surprised but she opened the door wider and let me in. My son rested comfortably in the crook of her arm and I leaned to kiss his cheek. He was asleep and so I didn't try to take him but I felt the now familiar pang in my heart as I looked on his sweet innocent face. I wondered if one day I would forget this feeling and find myself hating him for what he had become.  
  
"No fucking way." I muttered, "Hello sonny boy." And I let Lindsay move away to lay him in his basket. I had questioned the basket but she insisted that it made him feel more secure and what the fuck did I know about it? Not enough to argue with her that's for damn sure and he never seemed to protest being there so I supposed she was right. I had moved away from them and was staring out the front window into their small yard.  
  
"Brian is something wrong?" she asked gently. Lindsay is always gentle with me. She often treats me like she believes I am fragile in some brittle sort of way and might one day simply shatter without warning. I shook my head. Even though I had come here I didn't want to talk about it. Sometimes when things were not going smoothly, just being in the presence of her calming spirit was enough. She walked up behind me and laid a hand on my shoulder, I leaned my head against hers.  
  
"I went to see Justin's dad today." I told her finally. And she breathed a heavy sigh.  
  
"Why would you do that?" she asked, in anyone else's voice I would have heard an accusation but not in hers. I shrugged. She wasn't about to let me get away with that. "Brian." She said sternly, "You told me what happened before, why would you go there?"  
  
"It's time for him to go." I told her, "It's been too long now, Justin is a kid. He needs his mommy. It is time for him to go home." I tried to move away from her but her hand tightened slightly on my shoulder and I remained in place as if I had been anchored.  
  
"You might have thought about that before you fucked him." She told me blandly. Fuck. I jerked away from her and stalked across the room.  
  
"He was getting fucked that night by someone, Christ he didn't come all the way down here to go home a fucking virgin." I turned back to face her, "He was lucky as shit he got me and you know it. Goddamn kid like that…fuck." I ran a hand back through my hair and failed to meet her eyes. We both knew I could have given a rat's ass for Justin that night. He had been a shiny new toy for me to indulge myself with. That was then…this was…now I..Christ it was past time for the god damn kid to go. Lindsay's eyes widened and that look women get when they think they know something about you appeared on her face. She stared at me and a smile quirked her lips.  
  
"Why Brian Kinney." She said glibly, "I do believe you are in danger of falling." She paused and the glib tone disappeared from her voice, "Do you have to run Brian, do you?" She was standing in front of me now and the smell of her perfume combined with sweet baby smells drifted to me. I reached out and touched her hair as she looked at me with eyes that always seemed to see to the very depths of my soul. When I was with her and she looked at me like that there seemed to be things lurking just at the edge of what was possible that were wholly impossible at any other time. And the possibility that hovered in this moment throbbed and pulsed with the promise of a thing that I had shielded myself against from time out of mind. Despite my constant protests to the contrary, I knew there was love in this world, there was even love in my life but not that gooey romantic bullshit that hetero's and dykes were forever bleating about but real love. I had Michael and Lindsay and I counted myself lucky. That kind of love was reality. Romantic love was goddamn horseshit and I knew it, but there were moments like this one when I was looking into her eyes filled with idealistic dreams not only for her and our son but for me, that even I could almost believe. I was used to him being there. How hard would it be to just keep him?  
  
Ice cold fear wrapped around my heart and squeezed; to do that would involve a measure of trust that I did not possess. I was a fag and fags did not tie themselves to one partner. There was always another hard body, another dick you hadn't tasted, another ass you hadn't fucked and all of them more exciting, and more provoking that the familiar twat sitting on your couch at home waiting for you to come in the door so he could bitch at you. No matter how you tried there would be that meeting of eyes, the spark of desire and the frenzied mating in an alley, a backseat or the backroom. Men were not fucking designed for monogamy. I kissed her and stepped back breaking the moment.  
  
"You know me better than that." I shook my head and tapped her nose with my finger, "I don't believe in love, I believe in…"  
  
"Fucking. Yes you make that perfectly clear often enough." She sighed and it was not hard to see that she was disgruntled with me. She liked Justin and it would suit her artistic nature and thrill her romantic soul for me to discover my happily ever after with him, too fucking bad this was real life. I stuck my hand in my pocket and my fingers wrapped around the stained underwear I had put there earlier. This was about more than whether I believed in love or not, and it was more than a matter of getting him out before things got any more complicated than they had already become.  
  
"He has to go." I told her again, the baby gurgled and sighed and she went to check on him. I watched her lean over and fuss with his blanket. The love and devotion she felt for him in every line of her body; another kind of love that was real, though I had not believed in it before Gus.  
  
"He can come here." Satisfied the baby still slept she turned to face me, "Mel and I both like him. He wouldn't be a problem." I hesitated. I loved Lindsay but Melanie…Christ, would I really subject Justin to that bitch…though that would certainly be one way to cure him of his idealistic impression of me. A steady dose of Melanie would undoubtedly succeed where all other measures had failed.  
  
"No." I said bluntly, offering no explanation. I dropped into an over stuffed chair and contemplated my narrow range of options. Lindsay frowned at me and sat on the couch. She knew where that no had come from but she didn't protest it.  
  
"What about Deb? She would take him." I nodded I had considered that already. I knew that Deb and Vic would take him in a heartbeat. The trouble there was that Michael hated Justin and he would be beyond pissed if Deb put the blond twink into his old room and there was the matter of money.  
  
"They can't afford it." I told her, "He eats like a fucking cow and he's the damnedest clothes horse I ever saw." She laughed.  
  
"Well send him to the farm then." She teased me and I narrowed my eyes at her, she best watch it I knew every ticklish spot she had, she raised her hands in a peace keeping signal, "Who's been paying up till now?" she asked and I raised a brow at her. She got that damn "ah ha" look again and my tongue poked at my cheek, fucking woman.  
  
"So keep paying. You can afford it and they won't tell Justin if you ask them not to. I think Deb would do nearly anything to get that boy out of your evil clutches." She laughed at me but I considered what she was saying. That actually seemed like a workable solution and one that I hadn't thought-out.  
  
"I hadn't planned to support him for the rest of his fucking life." I said sarcastically, Lindsay was immune to me. She rolled her eyes.  
  
"Think about it, Brian, it could be the perfect solution and it's not like you aren't already supporting him. How much difference could it really make?" I simply nodded, unwilling to truly commit but I was already considering approaching Vic about the matter. Maybe it was something that could be worked out after all. I rubbed my hand over my face. Christ, Justin was going to throw a screaming fit about this. It was going to be fucking impossible to make him understand why I was putting him out, too bad he behaved himself so goddamn well. It would make things a lot easier if he kept trashing the loft or something. Fuck it that was beside the damn point, it was my place and it was time for him to get the fuck out. I kissed Lindsay and left her sitting slightly bemused alone with my son.  
  
I climbed into my jeep but instead of heading for the loft I turned back towards work. I hadn't intended to but suddenly, born full fledged in my brain, was the solution to my tire dilemma. "Let us carry you safely over life's roughest roads." Goddamn breeder concept but it would sell tires. I could just see Cynthia's face when she heard it. "How's Justin" she would ask with that infernal smug little smile. Like he had any goddamn thing to do with this. Fucking women.  
  
TBC   
  
Comments are the stuff the next chapter is built on


	13. Interlude 2

  
Author's notes: Please note the interludes are quite a bit shorter than the normal parts of the story but they are an extremely important part of the whole. I hope when you read this you do not feel cheated by the brevity (only 934 words) but that it will lend a depth to the story that would not be possible without them...perhaps I should include a warning for creepy content. Enjoy...and let me know what you think!   


* * *

A Short Interlude  
  
Teaching. He was being taught…Was he learning…? Watching. Waiting. There should be a sign. Some clue. Was he learning? No outcry over the full bodied paint. A gift to one who deserved no gift. No acknowledgment of intrusion. Had the gifts been found? Was the effort wasted? Was he too stupid to learn? Now, when my beloved one slept, there was time for teaching but the dark hours of the morning were not a time for lessons but a time for mercy. The large lessons were easy, they came so willingly. Eager for the warmth of the automobile, for food, for real pleasure. Rare gifts in their days of horror and torment. And then they slept. Some, one or two, saw the truth of their sleep in my eyes and had wept. It didn't matter, in the end they embraced me. They embraced the dream. And they helped me teach.  
  
Were the lessons learned? Waiting for a hint…a suggestion that he was beginning to see. There was nothing. My beloved. The pain must be eased. He must not know. He must sleep his sleep of innocent peace. The next lesson was not ready yet. The gentle sweep of the cloth will purify the skin. This one was not a lesson. This one who now dreamed. Dreaming is better than life. In dreams there is no pain. Wash gently. Feet, buttocks, back, arms, shoulders. He had drained. That was good. It was much better when they had been cleansed and the mire of their lives emptied from them. Clean the tile. Clean the drain. He could not be defiled again. He was pure. Careful or all is lost. Let him down. Slowly…slowly... Slight drainage as he settles on the tiles. Not on him. Into the drain. It was good. He sleeps and has been made pure. Unbind him. Sorrow over the marks left by the chains. Do not linger. Necessary. There must be purification. Clean the tools and set them aside. In their places. Carefully. They must not be damaged.   
  
Not a lesson. He would not be kept. The bag. Lay it out. Carefully, unzipped. Cradle him. Gently he must be loved. He sleeps still. Caught in the dream. He rests. A final nest. The hour is late. My beloved must not know. Eyes glazed. Staring. Thankful. Lids closed. Cleansing a final time. Clean hair…clean ears…now undefiled. Lift. Carefully. Kiss the sleeping brow. Sweet one now dreams. Placed carefully. Yes. It is done. The pure one is whole. Drained and pure, swept away in dreams. Close the bag. Sad that he must go. Away. Far from here. He is not a lesson. A secret angel. He cannot be found. My beloved one can never know.  
  
A country road. Dank earth. Musty leaves. A final bed. Eternal dreams. Beautiful. Dark skin. Pale skin is for the lesson. Hands lowered for modesty. Such pleasure he had known. Now he dreams. Eternal pleasure. Thick wavy hair. Perfect. Lift. careful. Respect. Now he is whole again. Leaf blanket. No one comes here. Soon he will be gone. The circle completed while he sleeps. He is caught in the dream. Sharing his sleep.  
  
This dark wooded place where no one ever comes. I could not remember how I had found it. I did not know how I understood that my secret would not be discovered here. There were many boys here sleeping. I had helped them all and they returned always to the soil. The ground under these trees was a rich loam now. Soon this one would be a part of that plan. I regretted the ones cut out of the circle. But in the end they would be a circle of their own. My beloved one was in pain. They were ignoring the lessons. I would try again and we would see. I did not have to worry about that tonight. The boy was caught in his eternal dreams now… I had helped him. The circle was complete. The bag zipped and folded I carried it back to my car and put it under the seat. It was always the last thing to be put away. Everything else was cleansed and put tidily into its place. I would begin the search tomorrow for the next lesson. He must be perfect. I remembered the shirt I had tucked away for this lesson and felt content. It would be a good one. Perhaps there would be no need for any others. Perhaps this would be finished and I could return to my real purpose. I remembered the orange. This was a circle of sorts and it would remain unfinished if the next lesson was the end. That thought was unsettling. I did not like things to remain unfinished. I would not worry about that now. I would know. I always know.   
  
The house. Darkened drive. Put away the car. Put away the bag. My beloved must not know. He is sleeping. So beautiful. Press a kiss to the perfect brow. He dreams. Sweet dreams of the beloved.  
  
"Brian." The name falls from his perfect sleeping lips with longing. Pain. Gut wrenching. Pain. My beloved one dreams. He dreams of him. The peace of the circle falls away. The need is there. The lesson will be taught. It will be taught. It will be learned. Etched in pain and drawn in blood. He would learn. He would learn. Trembling. Hate. Fury. Born of pain. My beloved one stirs. Wakes.  
  
"I am here." Lying down. Bodies touch. Mouths kiss, "I will make it better." Bitter promise in the dark.  
  
The story will resume in Part 12  
  
Comments eagerly awaited


End file.
